


Invidia

by notavodkashot



Series: Old Archive [14]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-20 02:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 91,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notavodkashot/pseuds/notavodkashot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A centuries-worth grudge is a good way of describing Envy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sinner

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally written in 2006]

* * *

**Invidia: Sinner.**

_“All things truly wicked start from an innocence.”_

* * *

The boy was small. He looked like a mouse, curled in a corner, peering curiously into a large open book. He couldn’t be older than three and was having a hard time reading, but he looked cute. The man in the doorway let the corner of his lip curl upwards, then turned to the Alchemist. That curious almost mystical man that was walking around a work table with a calculative glint in his eye. The long grey robe was dirty and torn at some places, but instead of making him look run down, it added to the mysterious appeal. The stranger cleared his throat uncomfortably, and the child looked up at him. Behind muddied blonde bangs – he probably spent the morning playing outside – two bright and sharp green eyes seemed to glow at him. The Alchemist ignored him, muttering under his breath as he made notes on a wrinkled parchment.

“Er…”

“Aye, Alastor, speak or leave, but do not waste the meager air I have.”

“That way you treat a friend, Paracelsus?” The stranger walked into the room, his clothes pristine and even a touch luxurious, much to the child’s curiosity.

“Vyktor, go outside.”

The child left silently, but not without treating himself to a last glance on the stranger, so different and yet so similar to his own father, and smiled.

* * *

“You are a smart brat, I will give you that,” Alastor said with a sneer, circling the boy as a vulture would, “But you will need more than a bit of common sense for this, you will need talent,” The boy shivered slightly as the black eyes fixed on him intently, “Tell me, Vyktor, do you have talent?”

“…yes.”

With a backslap, the man threw him away from him, glaring.

“Answer me as if you mean it, rascal!”

Vyktor was small for his age, still very much a mouse and still too shy. Licking his lips, he knew crying in front of his tormentor would bring him no good. No, he would store his tears, cry them later when no one would see. Standing up slowly, he risked looking into the terrifying eyes of his mentor.

Alastor was an imposing man. Tall and always dressed so primly, with fine clothes and golden amulets, he was terrifying for a shy six year old boy who was trying to learn from him. The dark eyes were always looking at him with something Vyktor didn’t like, as if he were another specimen for his experiments. Alastor’s long black hair was always held back into a low pony tail, with a silken bow that somehow managed not to look effeminated on him. No, everything about him spoke of power and little patience for mistakes.

Certainly not enough patience to teach a young boy.

“Yes,” The blonde tried to pull himself together, meeting the dark eyes and forcing himself not to whimper. He was trembling though, “Yes Master, I do have the talent.”

“I will be the judge of that,” The man moved unnervingly, like a big cat preparing to attack, “So eager to please your father, we shall see if the talent truly runs through blood.”

* * *

“Father says he’ll find a cure someday,” The girl was pretty, her short black hair messy and her icy eyes almost unnaturally bright.

Vyktor shrugged, struggling to clean the vines he had been given. They were slippery and small, and Master Alastor had been very clear with him, if he didn’t do it right, he would get punished. He risked a glance at the girl, crippled and weak, unlike the man that had fathered her. Her legs were thin and useless, little more than bone and skin, and her left arm was missing, but she smiled, and it made Vyktor uncomfortable for some reason.

“I dunno, Anna,” He gave her an uneasy smile, “I hope so.”

“Yes, and when I’m cured, I’m going to run around and play tag with you, you will play tag with me, right?” She made a small giggling noise, girlish and amused, “And I’ll learn to ride a horse. Because horses are my favorite animals, they’re so pretty… What’s your favorite animal, Vyktor?”

“My favorite?” Vyktor smiled, showing off a missing tooth in his mouth as he shrugged, “Dragons of course! Do you think that your father we’ll let us go see them then? When you’re cured?”

“Dragons?” Anna laughed, and Vyktor found he didn’t like it. Because she was seven and spoiled rotten, and she wasn’t laughing with him. She was laughing _at_ him. “Don’t be stupid! Dragons don’t exist.”

“Do too!” The young blonde glared, indignation coloring his features, “Father told me so, they live in the mountains, far, far away, in Nauru.”

“Nauru is a children's story,” Anna said with a snort, “Your father is a liar.”

“He’s not!” The young boy felt his face grow red, his eyes narrowing dangerously, “Father is the best Alchemist in the world, _ever_.”

“Sure,” Anna made a condescending movement with her only hand, smirking. Even if her body was broken, she managed to make him feel smaller, less, “If it’s so, then why are you learning with _my_ father instead of him?”

As he ran away from her, least he lose his control, Vyktor threw away the basket where he had been peeling and storing the vines. At nightfall, Alastor told him mean lies about his father and hit him a few times with his cane, to remind him who was in charge of things.

* * *

“It is quite alright,” In a completely unfamiliar gesture, his father patted his back, holding him close against him.

The scent of death was strong in the air and the boy, despite his weariness, didn’t ask as he let himself be held. His former Master’s house had been reduced to ashes and the man himself… _Anna_ … He couldn’t really remember everything, just the bright light and the large black door, the soulless eyes behind it, promising and whispering horrible things as they stretched their fingers towards him.

“The Gate is a very unforgiving thing,” His father rumbled as he held him close, “Never forget that, Vyktor, no one can really harness the power of the Gate, no matter how well thought out the arrays are.”

“He said he was going to cure Anna,” Wide green eyes looked up as the boy swallowed hard, “That he needed blood to make it work. _My_ blood.”

The nine year old closed his eyes again, and turned to the side, not being able to stop the wave of nausea cursing through his body. Large hands patted his back again, while his father muttered soothing nonsense that made him grin despite himself.

“I guess,” The man once known as Paracelsus mused with a risen eyebrow, “That this means I’ve gotten myself a new apprentice then?”

Despite the fact he looked underfed, that his skin was covered in blisters from the explosion, his face pale and shallow, his hair messy and knotted… despite looking like a rag doll hastily put together, Vyktor Elric smiled, and the world seemed a little brighter as he did.

* * *

“Father?”

Stepping wearily into the lab, the boy blinked away the constant mist and tried to make out the figure bent over the worktable.

“Over here,” His father waved a hand at him without looking up, but the boy didn’t feel offended.

Such was the way his father was, and he wouldn’t really change it.

“Mother gave me lunch,” Setting the tray on a small clear space on the table, the boy nervously batted his hair away from his face.

“Mm?” Stopping his writing, his father blinked, then smiled, “Oh, food. Good.”

They ate standing, since the older man kept jolting down random notes into his parchments, and the boy felt it was disrespectful to seat while his mentor didn't. At some point, his father stopped eating and writing altogether, staring instead at an apple in the tray.

“Vyktor?” Glancing over at the lanky boy, he saw him choke a bit to answer, “How old are you now?”

“I’ll be twelve next spring,” The boy seemed inordinately pleased with himself for some reason. It made his father smile.

“We should go to Xing,” The Alchemist said suddenly, looking at his son with a certain glint in his eye.

“Why?” Vyktor blinked, he liked the mountains. Why would they leave?

“Because they have this lovely thing there, I know you will love it,” The father ruffled the messed up hair in dire need of a haircut and grinned, “They call it chocolate. It’s positively delightful.”

* * *

“You are helpless. Absolutely helpless,” The old crone smirked at him, smudging the ink of his scrolls and smirking when he snarled. But she hugged him to calm him down, and he hated it because it worked.

She was the keeper of the scrolls, the Xing equivalent of a librarian. She taught him the symbols, the language and their writing. She was a good teacher, but she liked to make him angry. She said he would need to control his temper, or die trying. She was old and wrinkled, but she knew things about almost everything, and though her sense of humor was acid at best, he delighted himself with her stories.

“Master Ming? Is this alright?” He offered her the scroll, and her dark eyes narrowed.

“Not quite,” Ming Yue, sixteenth generation of scroll guardians, smirked and took the brush from the boy’s hands, tracing the character herself, gracefully, smoothly, “Writing should be like your arrays, young dragon, careful and well measured. It is, after all, a reflection of your soul.”

She yelled at him, smudged the lines he took hours to finish, even went as far as to hit him in the head with her writing brushes, but she always hugged him when he needed it and told him bits and pieces of stories and wisdom he couldn’t quite understand, but he knew that were important. Besides, she had conspired with him, promising one day she would show him the dragons that lived in the mountains of Xing, to prove him that at least there, they were real.

“Rules are meant to be broken,” She would say, smiling at fondly at him “But at the right time. Do you understand that? The key to gaining power comes from your will and the control you have over it.”

And for that, the old crone would always be Master Ming, even if she was nothing like his former Master.

* * *

The scent of the capital was delightful, the boy decided, a healthy mix of animals, food, sand, wind and just the right touch of _magic_ that made the city so beautiful. Atop her hill, the Forbidden Castle, where the emperor lived and ruled over his land. Vyktor looked up at his father, who was also enjoying the view.

“Nothing like civilization after a month in the wild, do you not think so, Vyktor?” His father was already walking down the main street, and as he had been taught, the young boy walked behind him in a sign of respect.

Whispers broke around them, since _everyone_ knew or had heard about The Alchemist, the wizard from the West that had come to entertain their ruler. Vyktor felt slightly intimidated against the majority of the population, because not only did they talk differently, they dressed differently, ate differently; they _looked_ different too. The young boy was too self conscious of his image as he trailed behind his father. His father was tall and imposing and people _respected_ him. _The best I can do,_ the blonde boy thought miserably, _is get a chuckle or two for my efforts._  


When they turned to the main street, his father paused in a small shop. The woman tending it smiled so brightly the room seemed to lit up as much as her eyes did, and she immediately went to hug his father and then fuss about him.

“Oh, you are back! Here, here, I made your favorite!” The chocolate scent was almost as sweet as the feeling of slender arms wrapping around him, and he allowed himself a small smile as the woman cooed at him. He was home, “Go ahead, Lord Alchemist, I will look after your son!”

His father grinned at him, then walked away to the castle. Vyktor was curious of the tall walls and the secrets that were surely lurking behind the gates of the majestic building, but at the moment he didn’t care. He had chocolate, and really, what else could he need?

* * *

“Vyktor!” Wincing, the teen turned to face the wrath of his mother, looking mildly sheepish. Her eyes flashed with annoyance, “I have told you more than enough times! Do not interrupt your father’s research, it is too important!”

“But-“ He saw her eyes narrow in warning and sighed in defeat, “Yes, mother.”

“Good,” She snorted and turned back to glare out of the window, at the busy streets, “The sooner he is done, the sooner we will leave this pitiful place.”

“I like it,” He rebelled slightly, frowning, “The people are nice and the food is good.”

“The people are nice?” His mother gave him a slight disdainful look, “Sometimes you are too much your father’s son. Look at them! They are not like us, distasteful beasts.”

Vyktor bit back a remark, given most of his friends were locals, and bowed instead, turning to leave his mother’s presence.

“Do not forget to be back early,” Her voice stopped him by the doorway; as he turned to acknowledge her, she smiled, “Tonight is your birthday party and we have to make sure everything is in order.”

Vyktor blinked. Today… He’d forgotten. He gave his mother a sheepish look again, shrugging.

“Oh please, Vyktor,” She scowled, her lovely features turning severe, “You should be well aware this is important. Very influential people will attend, including representation from the Emperor. Your father has gained a lot of prestige here, do not ruin it with your lack of manners.”

“I am sorry mother,” He bowed again, hiding a slight frown, “I will be here on time.”

“You better,” She smiled a bit more kindly, “You do not turn fifteen every day.”

Sometimes, she was very gentle and caring with him. But other times… Other times, it seemed as if nothing was worthy of her. Not father. Not him. _Especially_ not him.

With a small shiver, Vyktor left in search of his Master. He was due another ‘friendly’ introduction to the ancient art of sparring, and he had never looked less forward to learning something new.

* * *

Eyes wide, he let the axe fall heavily, almost viciously against the wood. But instead of cutting cleanly as it should have, it splintered, and he swore.

“Vy, Vy, Vy…” Came a soft voice from under the large oak in the garden, “You are so terribly bad at this. Emotional trauma much?” The old woman laughed, amused at his distress and that distressed him more… until she pulled him against her and petted his back while pretending not to notice the tears.

He never cried.

“Your mother has a very special temperament, child,” Ming Yue said calmly, soothingly, “That only makes it much more important for you to be good to her, to obey.”

“How could I obey?” He shivered and pulled back with a betrayed look in his eyes, “She wants me to marry someone I have not even met yet!”

“It is an engagement, my dear dragon,” She used the pet name sporadically, only when he was distressed or tired enough to not bother complaining, “You are sixteen, it is traditional in these lands to engage our youth so they will marry when they are twenty, it brings peace to the parents' heart to know their children’s future is more or less secure.”

“But I don't want security!” The young man replied as he sat back, curling around himself as he pulled his legs to his chest, “I want to be like father, to travel and study and _see_ the world,” He gave his Master a despairing look, “Master Ming, how could my mother choose for me? What if I do not like my bride?”

The old woman was even more wrinkled than she had been when he met her, though when he had been a child, he had theorized that all the wrinkles in the world had decided to gather and live together on her.

She had hit him on the head for that comment too.

“You are not from Xing, my dear boy,” Her smile was kind, countering the distressing effect of her words, “There are dragons in Xing too, have I not told you so? But the dragons from the Ba mountains are different than the ones that hide in your homeland. Both are dragons, both are power, but they belong each to their place, and nowhere else.”

Vyktor blinked, frowning slightly as he tried to make sense of the riddle. She always spoke to him like that, at least when it was about something really important.

“Tomorrow I will go and speak with your mother,” The old woman felt herself smile despite her serious tone, when the young man beamed at her again, “We shall see what I can do about it.”

* * *

“I thought I had corrected all the damage Alastor had done!” His father snapped back, irritated.

“Do _not_ bring him into this!” Vyktor scowled, “This has nothing to do with him.”

“You know The Gate cannot be controlled!” His father gave him an icy look, “The price is too high, Vyktor, you simply cannot perform human transmutation.”

“It’s a matter of care, of details,” He gave his father an almost pleading look. _Please, I’m not making a mistake, this is serious, I promise you it is._  


“Listen to me son, The Gate demands souls, _human_ souls to be abated,” His father’s eyes were serious as he spoke, and Vyktor shivered slightly, hating himself as he did, “The stone… I have figured it out. How to make it, yet…”

“The cost is too high?” His heart caught in his throat, did it mean… had his father finally mastered The Art to the point nothing was impossible?

“Hundreds of them,” But his father was horrified, and his miserable voice showed it, “Perhaps more.”

“Oh,” And Vyktor bowed his head, theories and facts about the transmutation of living things quietly and determinately shoved to the back of his mind, “Mother is sick, is she not?”

They hadn’t said a thing to him, but it wasn’t necessary, he wasn’t blind. He saw the never ending trail of flasks in his mother’s nightstand. The scent of herbal teas always boiling on the stove. Wise men from the Emperor’s court, whispering softly in a language that had already become his own. The silence that settled in their home, since now all three of them spent day and night in the shabby lab, breathing fumes and drawing array after array.

“By this point,” And his father looked positively _dead_ , “I think only the stone would save her.”

* * *

Ming Yue had been his mentor for nearly five years. He had arrived at her doorstep, holding his father’s hand and afraid it would be like Alastor but worse, since he couldn’t even understand the language. But the woman, though temperamental and strict, was also kind to him. She hit him mockingly with her writing brushes and made him do all sort of random activities to help him think. She had taught him to read, write and use certain characters as arrays. She had taught him of herbs and plants and flowers and things that were helpful by showing him when and how he could use them.

She had never, though, in those long five years, ever laid a hand on him with ill intent. She had defended him from his mother’s avarice, from his own ignorance sometimes.

But that day, when her hand connected with his cheek, it _hurt_. It sent him stumbling back a few steps and when he could focus his eyes again, he saw her panting, angry and glaring.

“Why do you need the stone for?” She demanded, black eyes blazing, “It is but a chunk of crystal that only causes fear and pain. It is not worth it, nothing is ever worth it,” And in the smoldering dark eyes, he understood, he _understood_ , so when he was being embraced, he didn’t say a thing.

He didn’t need to.

* * *

They had done it, in the end, because the thought of losing her had been unbearable, too painful to contemplate. They had tried to buy time, but she was too weak, too _gone_ …

He told himself he didn’t regret it. He told his father so. But even as they watched her sleep, her face no longer pale with Death and her breathing normal and human and _alive_ , guilt crewed at their insides. Sure, those lives they had taken, they had already been taken by disease, but did they have any right at all?

“What do we do with it?”

He felt a strange emotion within him when his father let him talked to him like that, as if they were equals, as if he were a man, even if he desperately felt as a child. He glanced at the glowing red stone that his father was holding almost reverently. He could almost feel it’s warmth from where he was standing, the glow of life trapped inside.

“I don’t know, son,” He gave him a humorless smile, “I really don’t know.”

“Let’s go home,” He said suddenly, feeling his stomach revolt at the thought of staying another day in Xing.

He felt a spark of something that could have very well been hatred ignite within him, the low fire creating a slight aversion to the country itself, as if it had been it what had caused the great disaster. Or perhaps it had been the greed of the Emperor, who wished to own the Alchemist and his apprentice for his own designs. Perhaps it had been themselves, with their endless research and pointless wishes.

“Let’s go home,” He repeated, looking at his father with a note of pleading in his eyes, “Mother always loved the mountains.”

So when they left the next morning, he left a short letter to his mentor, trying to explain himself without saying a thing. He knew, however, that the screams and the fires from Xerxes would never quite fade from his mind.

* * *

* * *

Now it was him who hid away from the lab, not wanting to be around when another fight over the stone started. His mother had developed a terrible side effect to the Elixir, an almost psychotic dependence on it. His father refused to give her more, fearing it would only worsen her condition, until he finally heard the real reason for her demands.

Then, of course, he left.

Vyktor didn’t blame him, not really. He missed him, but he also knew that the stone had to be placed somewhere safe. Somewhere his mother wouldn’t find it. It was bad she had become so obsessed, but it was simply unacceptable for her to find it.

No, Vyktor continued with his research on human transmutation. The why’s and how’s kept him up at night, and by the age of eighteen, the weight of his research had already made him look much older than he was in truth. But it was worth it, he knew he was close to a breakthrough.

To the understanding of The Gate.

So, of course, something had to go wrong.

He hadn’t been paying attention, he hadn’t been home for long enough, pouring over the King’s libraries, manipulating things smoothly enough so that his research could be carried out while the buffoon of a royal could still be appeased with shows of ‘magic’ here and there. He should have known his mother wouldn’t give up that easily.

But until he felt the telltale feeling of Mercury fumes burning their way down his lungs, he couldn’t have known what she was planning.

  
_Oh mother_ , he thought ruefully as the world caved in around him, _you just had to, didn’t you?_  


* * *

He was certain he was being irresponsible. He was doing something dangerous, and even if he had been in full health, the journey itself could be lethal.

_Walk twenty days, to the northwest. Straight, no matter what you find, climb, run, swim. Twenty days, straight to the northwest._

He was going to Nauru.

_And when you find the peaks, high above the land of men, you will find the reign of immortality._

Vyktor coughed all the way to the peak of the mountains. Reaching through the narrow paths, he endured the cold and the winds, felt himself freeze to death almost twice a day, but he didn’t falter. The words still burned in his mind, a petty fight with a crippled child that had dared to doubt his father’s word.

_They are the creatures who survived time. They existed before man was but an idea in the Gods’ minds. They will exist when man is nothing but a tale told by the oceans and the sky._

When he reached the plateau, the fabled land of myth, he cried in silence when he saw them. They were _there_ , free and powerful and immortal and _beautiful_. And Vyktor had never seen anything like them before. The image of them would be forever engraved in his mind, as the epitome of peace, of power, of nature, of _freedom_.

_But bear in mind, that these creatures are not fools. They guard the darkest secrets, but they scorn lies and their knowledge knows no end._

“Who are you?” The green reptile landed near where he was, a voice rumbling out of nowhere as the large grey eyes fixed on him, judgingly.

_Speak the truth when you see their eyes, because they smell the foul rot of deceit and your death shall not be painless if you provoke their wrath._

“I am but a humble dying man,” Vyktor shrugged, smiling nervously and noting faintly he was still crying, “I am my Father’s son.”

“You are who you wish to be. If you wish to be your Father, then you will be… but I would much rather you to become yourself,” The ancient creature lowered its majestic head next to him, nuzzling his chest and almost throwing him back.

And in that instant, that heartbeat, he _understood_.

_Do you know why dragons fly, Vyktor? Because they are power and freedom, and when they wish something, they do it. It is what sets them apart. For them, there are no limits._

Because he had touched the _magic_ that others scorned, he had breathed the scent of Time itself trapped into a creature who existed merely to fly and be free.

Thus, Vyktor knew he could die a peaceful man.

* * *

Father had come back when he had found out he was dying. Found him on his way back from the mountains, and though he asked, Vyktor refused to answer his questions.

He didn’t felt so bad about dying, really. The Mercury inside him would rot and twist and disfigure him slowly and it wasn’t going to be a _nice_ way of dying, but he had made up his mind, and if anything, he was going to die with dignity. That’s all he had left, anyway, given his mother had run away with her incomplete stone once she had understood the real consequences of what she had done.

No one knew of his journey, the very first secret he kept from his father, the understanding of Death.

Father didn’t want him to die, though. The stone might have saved him, but neither wanted to run the risks. Neither wanted him to become like his mother, to live like that… because that was worse than death. And for the first time ever since he had brought up the idea, his father hadn’t shunned Human Transmutation as an impossible, if beautiful, dream.

A perfect dream, Vyktor thought with wry amusement now that the roles were reversed but a dream nonetheless.

* * *

It hurt.

It _hurt_ beyond anything he had ever felt before. Pain searing though ever inch of his body, or was it a body, really? He couldn’t see, couldn’t speak, couldn’t taste, couldn’t even hear the wail he just knew he was letting out.

He could only feel the pain, merciless pain.

  
_The Gate cannot be controlled_ , Vyktor remembered in a faint moment of self, numb within his pain, _oh father, if only you knew._  


* * *

It was, surprisingly, his mother rather than his father who had figured out what would make his broken and pitiful body whole again. While she had been gone, her thirst for the perfect stone hadn’t dimmed, but all her experiments had merely resulted in more incomplete and, up to that point, useless attempts that she kept with her just in case she could use them later.

Upon seeing the wreck he had become, she screeched and threw everything in the room to the floor. Including that pouch where the red stones were held. They fell on him, and he wailed a little louder, because as irrational as it was, it _hurt_. And then one of them fell out of the bag as his mother quickly tried to get it away, and it just sank into him.

It was sex without the mess, Vyktor thought distantly, as his body calmed down enough he could actually _feel_ something else but numbing pain. His mother must have noticed, because she dropped another stone. And another. Up to the point he no longer felt the pain.

That thing that was his body now, reshaped, twisted and turned until he could feel again. He could see and breath and speak and _be_. But the very best thing was that his pain was gone. That horrible agony, he would do anything to avoid.

  
_Anything_.

His father remained with him, noting with surprise that he healed far faster than he should have. That his eyes would occasionally turn purple when he was distracted with something. When he forgot his eyes were supposed to be green. He had seen the incident, had talked to him about it.

“It is the stones she fed you,” He told him quietly, his eyes thoughtful, “Homunculus, you’re not quite human anymore.”

“I _feel_ human enough,” Vyktor replied, then paled as the stone was offered to him, “…Father?”

“Try it,” He said, the red glint almost too much to resist, “It… I think it might undo whatever went wrong when…” He swallowed, “I know you can’t do Alchemy anymore. This might help.”

“I don’t…”

But nevertheless he reached for it.

* * *

His father had been gone for such a long time. Vyktor knew why, but it hurt. He hadn’t meant to swallow the stone, he really hadn’t. But as soon as he had touched it, his new body had greedily taken it in, as it had done the others. He felt different, powerful, but not.

He definitely knew he wasn’t human anymore.

He couldn’t do Alchemy either, but he felt his new power cursing through his veins, the strength, the speed. It was not natural. He had been horrified at himself, when he had accidentally cut a finger off, and that flesh had merely melted back into him.

He wasn’t human, he was a Homunculus.

His father knew, that was why he had left. Because he couldn’t see him without flinching, without admitting he had sinned.

He was a Homunculus, he was a sin.

He had even tried to kill himself. Gone through all lengths of agony to end his existence, because he didn’t have a life. Done everything he could think of, until he realized it. One couldn’t kill something that wasn’t alive in the first place.

He was a Sin, he was immortal.

And as he realized this, that spark that had been ignited so long ago flared to life.

He was immortal, and he Hated.

* * *

“Stop trying to waste it!” His mother screeched angryly, “It is a gift! The most marvelous gift of them all!”

“I’m a monster!” He yelled back, not crying, because monsters couldn’t cry, “Look at me! What do you see when you look at me?”

“I see your father’s last token to me,” She replied quietly, and he felt he was dying for the second time when he realized she meant it.

“I’m not him!” His voice broke slightly, as he shook his head wildly, “I’m not him.”

His mind flew over to point out all the differences between them. He was younger, thinner, smaller. His eyes were the wrong color, his voice was lighter, his…

The quiet gasp made him look up, and he suddenly wished he hadn’t. There was a large, ornate mirror behind the chair his mother had been sitting on at the start of their discussion. Part of him died when he caught sight of his reflection.

His father was standing there, staring in horror.

* * *

He had run away, and she couldn’t have stopped him. He felt a sick fascination with his new found ability, and alone in the mountains, and later in a far away town, he had tried it. He had made himself taller and shorter, thinner and fatter, his hair red and black, his eyes blue and brown. He had even dared to make himself female.

Eventually, he settled for his own body and tried to melt into the slow life of the small community. It was a bit difficult, a drastic change from everything he had been in the past, but the villagers were nice, they helped and welcomed him and he found he felt… he felt _safe_ there.

“You’re so cold all the time, my, I’d say you’re a corpse if you weren’t so lively!” The dark haired man winked at him, playfully, and before he could answer, he was being hugged tightly.

Safe.

These people, these simple villagers who adored the God of Snowstorms and lived out of the meager fruits of the mountain, they welcomed him, made him feel human again. But then, when he was finally starting to harbor the hope of humanity again, the sickness came and the town was wiped away by the wrath of illness.

Vyktor left after burying the last corpses and told himself firmly that a new start was in order. So he did. Again and again and again. But the wonder of his new body and his supposed freedom died after a while as did those who sheltered him, leaving a sour realization, cold and written on stone.

He wasn’t human. Would never be human again.

In the depths of his exile, he created a new body for himself. One that was unique, that he would never encounter anywhere. Small, lithe, deceptively fragile. He chose a coloring he would never find anywhere else, something that was completely unnatural.

He was a monster, and now he looked like one. A pretty monster, but a monster nonetheless.

He realized, as he let the lips of his new face curl into a grimace, he no longer had the comfort of death to soothe him.

* * *

She wasn’t ‘mother’ anymore. She was Dante. She was his Master.

She held his only weakness, and ironically enough, she wouldn’t use it against him. No, her threat against him was to destroy it, thus sealing his fate to live on forever. For that, he obeyed. He stayed with her and followed her plans. He lied to her and kept from her the diaries that held the notes she needed. She didn’t know he had consumed the stone nor did she know he knew how to make another.

He followed, but he hated her.

Occasionally, he felt guilt about that. One should not hate a mother.

But then he would remember he was not human anymore, and he would hug his hatred, keeping it close and tending it so it would become a roaring fire. He hated, because he existed. He existed, thus he hated.

And when she named him, the first of what would become her army, he didn’t mind.

Envy.

He felt jealousy over humans. But not for their souls. Not for their humanity. Not for their lives.

He was envious of their right to die.

* * *

She let him run. She knew she held the reigns over him, so she let him go. Let him hide among the humans, pretend he wasn’t a monster. Encouraged him to, even.

He mixed and learnt and read and lived, but she always came for him. Before he sank too deeply into the illusion, she came to drag him back to the surface, to the truth. Truth that hurt and burnt, but that kept him sane.

She still wanted the stone, still wanted immortality, and it disgusted him, but he couldn’t deny her. He had never been able to deny her.

Envy hated it. Hated Him. Hated them. Hated _her_. Because she would let him run away, hide, find people who he could have learnt to love... and then she would come back. Her eyes dark and glinting and so damn _wicked_ but her voice was soft. Promising.

And even if she destroyed everything he tried to build, she would lure him back into her arms, hold him and pet him as if he were ten again and tell him it was for the best.

He hated himself for listening to her.

* * *

Dante made more like him. Six more to complete her set of perfect puppets. Fed them stones and gave them names, forced them to serve her. But still, none compared to him. He was the favorite, the strongest one.

The one that had eaten more than just red stones.

But she didn’t know that, and he never told her.

She killed and destroyed and manipulated others, and he helped her, because he hated her so badly, hated humans so much. She couldn’t make a stone for herself, so she convinced others to do it for her. He helped her orchestrate the killings, the destruction. To find the next body suitable for her.

Dante lead her crusade against Death. And always, always, Envy was at her right hand.

* * *

Dante had an obsessive nature, he learnt, when he stopped looking at her as his mother and finally saw her as the monster she was.

Probably worse than him, really.

She was obsessed with his father, convinced he had to be alive somewhere, though that was impossible.

She was obsessed with the stone, convinced she was meant to be immortal and be the messiah that would eventually defeat Death.

She was obsessed with him, convinced he was the key to immortality, and sure that she would find a way to gain his power without dying or having any weakness.

But over them all, she was obsessed with loneliness.

She had plenty of lovers, the bodies she chose were all beautiful, as she only demanded the best, but until then, she had never thought about making one of her lovers into her servant.

If Envy had known what would happen, he wouldn’t have killed Greed. He hadn’t liked her, she was loud and obnoxious and so much of a slut it disgusted him. It didn’t help she had gotten it into her little head that he was just _perfect_ for her.

He had discovered another nice thing he could do, aside changing his body to his will and, for lack of better wording, _smelling_ others like himself. Something no other Homunculus could do. He didn’t know if it was because he was older or because he had eaten the stone, but if he tried hard enough, he could steal the red stones inside another.

And that, he decided, was a rather nasty and thus lovely way to kill a pest.

He hadn’t count on Dante making her newest boy-toy into the new Greed, though. And he sulked about it for a while.

The new one was even more lewd than his predecessor. Annoying too. He thought because he was on her bed most nights he was the favorite, and he tried and occasionally succeeded in railing Envy up with that.

“No, you can’t,” Dante had told him, glaring at him as she sat on her vanity, brushing her hair, “You can’t keep killing off my servants every time they annoy you.”

“He’s a fucking _bastard_!” He snapped back, glaring, “He was coming on, on _me_!”

“You will not kill Greed, Envy, and that’s final,” And her voice held ice in it, “Or I’ll make sure no one ever kills _you_.”

* * *

This time, he had fled to somewhere not even Dante would find him. Mostly because she didn’t know it existed.

_“You, you’re strong. Will you teach me to be strong?” The young girl looked up at him, uncaring of the writhing Homunculus on the floor, or the dead humans around. Her black eyes were wide and her smile was silly, but she was brave._

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Master,” The woman shivered even inside her thick furs, eyes scanning the paper critically, “No one would ever be able to undo this.”

_“Look Master! I made it all by my self!” She offered him a delicate cup, transmuted from a patch of dirt and turned into art, “You were gone so long this time! I learnt all the books you gave me! I can recite them if you don’t believe me!”_

“That’s precisely the point,” He snorted, “This is something no one should ever find.”

_“I wish… I don’t know. I don’t know what I want, is that bad? I think it’s what makes me human,” She was a pretty girl, small and lovely. And she curled against him, asking questions that had no answers. He hugged her first, and felt strangely better as he did._

She was pretty, very obviously coming from Xing, with her long hair and her dark eyes. Envy had met her years earlier, while selecting the current Wrath, and had found her Alchemic talent and her will to learn alluring in some way. When she confronted him and demanded he taught her, he had agreed, and kept yet another secret from Dante.

_“So you’re not human, big deal,” The teenager snorted, messy hair falling over her brow as her lips thinned, “Homunculus, human… who cares? You’re Master, that’s all that matters, right?”_

“What’s in there?” She asked curiously, looking at the sealed boxes curiously.

_“That’s my sister, Xi Tze. She’s married to a really important man in Xing,” Xi Feng smiled faintly, “I wrote her about you and she was scandalized. She says you have to go and meet her someday.”_

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you, Xi Feng” He replied with a smirk, watching as she smiled.

_“I’ve grown, Master, now I have students of my own,” The young woman smiled wryly, “You were really gone for too long this time.”_

“I’m going to die anyway,” Her acceptance of death was the confirmation he needed to know he was doing things right, for once.

_“I’m ill, Master, I will die soon,” Her eyes glinted, peaceful and mischievous at the same time, “Don’t look so sad. It happens to everyone. I just regret you never took me to see the mountains.”_

A fit of coughing sized her, and she shook violently. It lasted a few minutes, finally ending when she rested her weight against the cold rocks of the mountain wall, blood dripping down her lips.

_“Nauru? It exists?” Her eyes had gone wide and curious, as they had been when she was a child, “Are you serious? Of course I’ll do it! I’d rather die on the way – not that I’m going to, by the way – than sitting here all day. These people don’t get it, they keep mourning me as if I was dead already!”_

“Tell me,” Her voice was broken, her throat protesting loudly at her recklessness and the cold weather.

  
_“Master!” Her squeal of delight had caused him to chuckle as the large beast came down to them, to ask the same questions it had asked two hundred years before. Her eyes had widened ridiculously as he showed_ his _face, not willing to provoke the wrath of the ancient creatures with his deceiving tricks._  


“Sins,” Envy replied, looking down with disdain at the boxes that held all his knowledge, “All my sins.”

_“Thank you for bringing me here, for sharing this,” She hugged him tightly, eyes closed as tears gathered under their lids, and when she pulled away her smile was watery, “I’m still such a human, aren’t I?”_

And as she transmutated the rock to follow the carefully traced pattern, using the array for him, he saw her give away the last remains of life within her. He hated her deeply when she fell dead to his feet, the seal completed.

He hated himself when he broke his word, and cried for a human he had loved.

* * *

For a taboo, Envy mused wryly, Human Transmutation was fairly common. It was his job selecting the Homunculi that would remain in Dante’s service and destroying those that were unfit for a role within the Sins. Dante only knew he could kill others like himself, not that he consumed them as if they were a delicacy. At a spiritual level, Envy felt himself strangely sated after consuming another failure, as if something within him strengthened every time he did. His power only grew with the red stones though, which he still consumed from time to time, when he could delight himself by killing a fellow Sin.

There were only two which he had been ordered not to touch. Greed, whom Dante still obsessed over, and Gluttony, who produced the precious stones they fed on.

The others, Dante didn’t care much about, so as long as they were replaced.

“Do you think Mistress will make me human?”

The quiet voice brought Envy out of his contemplation and he turned to look at the ‘newborn’. Sloth. He sneered at the teen. This one was promising, if only Envy could break those stupid human illusions he still clung to. The soft grey hair was a nice touch, he admitted, and stored the shade away to use in a future disguise. The brat was pretty, if anything, with the large eyes and the sad, beaten up puppy look.

“Why would you want to be human again?” The elder Sin snapped snidely, “To get killed again?”

“No,” Sloth shook his head, but his face remained terribly blank, sort of, “I just don’t want mother to be upset.”

Envy froze for a second, then stormed away with a growl.

* * *

Greed was the perfect excuse, really. Everyone knew they hated each other, and since Dante wouldn’t let him touch the bastard, Envy had the perfect reason to leave.

Xing was different this time. Not quite like he remembered, but with an aching sense of familiarity. The Imperial Castle still stood imposing on her hill, overlooking the capital. People still sold things in the streets, and their language had changed little over time. He did noticed, however, that certain Ishbalan words were mixing into the already complicated structure, and he figured it was nothing more but a side effect of trade.

Xi Tze was a lovely woman, younger than Xi Feng had been, six or seven years so, but when Envy finally got his ass on the move, he had found an ancient woman, well past her hundred years, wrinkled and prone in bed. Memories of his own Master came unbidden for a moment, before he roughly pushed them away.

He talked to her, about her sister, about his world, about nothing really. He talked and talked and talked until there was nothing left to be said and she had presented him to all her children and grand children.

“If you are ever in need,” Xi Tze raised a hand, to cut off the indignant remark that was threatening to spill from the Homunculus mouth, “I know what you are, but hear me, if you ever need a thing, and any of my children, pathetic human things that they are, can provide it for you, ask. Because you have my blessing, and your name will not be forgotten under this roof.”

He left that very night, disturbed beyond words and cursing his former apprentice to The Gate and beyond.

* * *

It felt refreshing somehow. Dante had known he needed this, the thrill of hunting, of delivering a deadly blow and allow the scent of death and blood to rush all over him.

He had been required to impersonate a boy and do the old ‘orphan’ routine, and while that on itself was pretty boring, dispatching the boy whose identity he was going to take and his family was not. Envy was, when the time was right, capable of an unnerving amount of cruelty.

By the time he was done, there were no remains of the little family, and his recent trip to Xing had been pushed far into the back of his mind.

He was a monster, and monsters didn’t need blessings.

“Oh look at you,” The mayor of the town said gently, “Don’t worry, child, we will take good care of you.”

The small brown haired boy nodded shyly, biting his lip and holding back tears. The perfect image of broken innocence.

But if you looked closely, you could see the dark amusement lingering in his eyes, and a bloodlust that was not nearly sated enough.

* * *

“So it’s true, you _are_ alive after all.”

The Alchemist blinked for a moment at the apparition before him, taking in the slender body, the strange colored hair, the undead eyes. It took him a moment, but recognition took into his features and he mustered a small, humorless smile.

“Vyktor,” The man that now called himself Hohenheim said evenly, surprised at the frosty tone, but deciding he should have expected it, “It has been long, has it not?”

“Your son is dead,” Envy spat with a glare, “And it hasn’t been nearly long enough.”

“I will never be, will it?” The Alchemist smiled, and it made Envy feel small; he hated him for it, “Not for us anyway.”

“Why?” Envy didn’t bother to clarify what he was asking, it was a rhetoric question against the world at large, a demand that he knew would meet no answer.

“The Gate is… an unforgiving thing,” The older man – and Envy took a moment to marvel that he _was_ older than him, it wasn’t something he felt everyday – looked at him wryly, smiling thinly, “What it gives, it is not always what you bargained for.”

“The stone,” The assumption was automatic.

He knew, damn himself for knowing, but he knew that the man would never mess with The Gate. Understanding of it had been _his_ dream, _Vyktor_ ’s dream. Hohenheim only wished to find the limits, to trace and solidify them. Make them tangible. Vyktor was the dreamer, the one who thought everything was possible, that the rule of Equivalent Exchange his father had worked so hard on creating could be missed, cheated. When he had been alive, that contradictory view of their art had been what had allowed them to work well together, to create almost miracles, by mixing their knowledge.

Vyktor’s knowledge was sealed away in a forgotten mountain of the Briggs range and Envy had no use for theories that had meant everything for a silly human that thought he could bend the world to his will.

“I can see,” Hohenheim said with a shrug, “And speak, sometimes, but It will no longer let me interfere.”

“Dante continues to create fake stones,” Envy informed him snidely, surprised when he wasn’t pleased by the almost unnoticeable flinch on the Alchemist’s shoulders, “They are close, but not good enough. She changes from body to body, but they rot faster each time.”

“You are smart Vy-“ The blond paused as the purple eyes glared at him, and with a sigh humored the volatile Sin, “Envy. You always were. She can’t make the stone, she’s not good enough. The more she uses that silly method to try and cheat The Gate, the more of her soul The Gate will steal with every change.”

“So she’s gonna die, big fucking deal,” The Homunculus crossed his arms, looking away, “She should enjoy her goddamn luck.”

“There will come a time,” And Hohenheim looked grim, deadly serious and concerned, “When the patience of The Gate, to put it somehow, will reach an end. And you and I will be of the few that will remain standing to clean up this mess.”

“Fuck you!” Envy cried angrily, stomping his foot and not caring if it was childish.

The Alchemist walked past and away from him, getting lost in the long road ahead. Alone at a solitary crossroad, Envy collapsed finally, hugging himself and allowing a few stray tears to fall.

“Fuck you,” He repeated, a breathy whisper as he morphed into a bird, taking flight.

He hated his father for many reasons, but the most important was that he still dared to make him feel human. Even if he wasn’t.

* * *

“Fine,” Dante looked at him with a frown, disdain glinting in her eyes, as her lips twisted into a grimace, “But you still can’t kill him. He will be useful later.”

Envy bit the inside of his mouth to keep from retorting something snide that would get him hauled out of the room with a bolt of light, and instead nodded curtly. He left the manor for a few days, coming up with a plan and a good way to humiliate the bastard, while at the same time sending the message loud and clear for the other Homunculi to hear. Even if they were all immortal, _he_ was the one in charge.

To tell the truth, Greed hadn’t expected it. In Envy’s opinion, that just proved how much of an idiot the other was, but he hadn’t noticed, not even suspected a thing. He had made sure everyone was present. From the tight ass Pride who was biding his time and preparing a new and larger scheme with Dante, to the stupid Gluttony, who only thought about eating.

“You’re late Greed,” Envy called out as the taller Homunculus arrived.

He tensed. There was something quite out of place in the smugness of Envy’s voice, something Greed really didn’t like. The others watched, curious and slightly nervous as their oldest brother, the one that had fed them the stones after their creation, smiled in that horribly foretelling way. Pride was the first to know it, but it was unfair because he was using his eye, and Envy took a moment to relish in the panic that raised in the usually stoic Sin.

“Yeah, so what?” Greed looked at him over the rim of his sunglasses, shrugging, “Want me to say I won’t do it again or something, brat?”

There was an unanimous flinch from the other Sins, but Greed didn’t mind them. To his eyes, they were all puny cowards who feared a shitty brat. He had never seen anything out of the extraordinary in Envy. Sure, he might be older by a few years, but he still acted pretty childish most of the time.

What could he do to him anyway? _Kill_ him?

“Oh, don’t worry your little brain about it,” Envy smiled, “You will _not_ be late again, ever.”

And as the five remaining Homunculi were forced to watch as Greed was forcefully shoved into a seal, Envy delighted himself and smiled the entire time.

* * *

The new Lust was lovely, really. And much more likeable than her predecessor. It was a shame the stone hadn’t been forged completely. O _h well_ , Envy thought as he motioned the taller woman to follow him, _can’t win them all._  


“Where are we going?” She asked a bit dizzily, her body trembling slightly.

Envy looked at her again, and a hundred ways of answering opened up to him. She was still human somewhat, though that was strange given her memories were blurred. But he liked her, and he figured he should try to build the first bridge.

He knew, somehow, this was not a Homunculus he would ever bring himself to feed from.

“Home,” Lust smiled gratefully, “We’re going home.”

And Envy firmly told himself he was not lying.

* * *

The were good children, reluctantly, Envy admitted that much. They were also painfully Elric children. The hair, the movements, the way they crowded around a book, the way they clumsily made their first arrays. The lack of the discipline from a teacher or the familiar touch of a parent was obvious, but they had talent. Oh, didn’t they have talent.

Elric was a name that screamed Alchemy, it was in their blood.

He watched them and hated them and longed for them, in ways he couldn’t really explain. The older one was energetic, brave and determined. He worked hard and did everything he could to please his parents and his brother. But the younger one intrigued Envy. Oh, he was an Elric, there was no doubt about it, but he didn’t really act like it. For one, he was quiet. He sat back and watched his big brother work and didn’t do a thing until he had told him it was fine. Submission was not something Envy could easily identify with the name Elric, but he figured genetics were a capricious thing.

They remind him of another child, who had once held their name and whose first array had been to fix a cup he had been clumsy enough to break. A child who had thought everything was possible, who could bend the world to his will.

“A fat lot of good that did,” The Sin muttered as he walked away, ready to report to Dante, when he felt eyes on himself.

Turning around, he snorted upon seeing the man standing by the door of the house. Their eyes met for a second that felt like an eternity to both. Envy shrugged, then turned on his heel and walked away, not caring in the slightless about the remorse he saw in the man’s face.

He couldn’t have known that as he bowed to Dante that very night, Hohenheim Elric had already left the small house.

* * *

Envy arched an eyebrow as he dodged another blow to his head. Feisty little thing, but he figured it was because of the red hair. Redheads were always so difficult to deal with.

“No!” Wrath screamed as he launched himself against him in another pitiful attempt to save his hide.

When that failed, the kid set himself on fire. _Oh really,_ Envy thought with annoyance, _why can’t you just fucking **die** peacefully?_ The ‘living’ torch ran blindly towards him, screeching, _and do you really think I didn’t come prepared?_  


There was an ominous splash and a subsequent scream as Wrath fell down, hissing and spiting.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, get some dignity,” He sank his fingers into the lanky body, delighting on the shriek that tore out of his fellow Homunculus’ throat as the red stones were ripped out of his body.

Watching the disintegrating mass of… well, whatever it was that made up a Homunculus, with disdain, Envy morphed into a copy of the one he had just destroyed.

After all, he needed somewhere to rest and that lovely family Wrath had been working on had a rather nice house.

* * *

“I found you a replacement, so stop scowling.”

Dante looked up from the book she had been attempting to read and snorted. The room they were in was luxurious _–_ as was _everything_ Dante owned _–_ and it reeked with decadence and opulence. The ceiling of the library was tall, the bookshelves stretched to either side, and the large windows allowed the late afternoon sun to filter in. Pride paid for most of their expenses, hoping to keep Dante in a good mood by showering her with presents and lavish decorations for her home. She allowed it, but gave no sign of appreciation for the Homunculus’ efforts.

Envy personally thought it was a bit overdone.

Standing up, Dante placed her book on a nearby table, where there was a bottle of wine and an almost empty glass.

“Where?” Her eyes showed she was not too pleased with the results.

“Dublith,” Envy smiled and Dante found she didn’t like the sight.

It felt as if their roles were reversed somehow.

“I believe you’re familiar with the name Izumi?”

* * *

They were _really_ Elric children, Envy mused, as he returned to the same house in less than ten years. They were different now, cracked, but not broken. _Worse for them,_ the Sin mused over the situation as he fed his newest ‘sister’, _those that break, can be put back together. Those that crack, shatter._  


“Who-“ The woman stared at him for a moment, her body almost lax as she blinked repeatedly.

“Sloth,” He acknowledged her with a smirk, “Your master is expecting you.”

The bewildered woman followed him, confused but willing, and he wondered what kind of reaction this would bring out of the so called ‘brothers’.

Not that he cared really, but the last century had been a big, fucking, boring _blast_.

* * *

Envy broke the man’s neck with a loud _‘crack’._ Not because Dante had ordered him. Not because it was part of a mission. Not because it was necessary.

No, he did it because it was _fun_.

He had never considered himself a psychopath. He still didn’t. To be one, in his mind, he would need to kill someone like him. So, given there wasn’t anyone quite like him, he was merely following the laws of nature. The stronger survive, the weaker become food or entertainment. Or both.

Truth was, he was bored. Dante’s schemes were growing more and more predictable and down right clichéd.

“You always leave such a mess, Envy,” Turning around, he found Lust scowling at the doorway, “Who do you think is going to clean all this?”

“Bah,” And he shrugged, not really caring about the matter, “It’s just humans, Lust, who cares anyway?”

She gave him a strange look for a moment, as if she didn’t recognize him, but then she shrugged and smiled.

“Yes, you’re quite right,” She linked an arm with him, eyes alight with deviousness, “Buy me dinner?”

And though he was scowling, Envy couldn’t really say no to her. She wasn’t human after all.

* * *

He mulled over his first meeting with the Elric brothers. His first _formal_ meeting anyway. Oh, the kids were Elric alright, determined, passionate… _blond_. Envy wondered how Dante would deal with them, then figured he really didn’t care, at the very least, they would provide him with amusement, and that was all that mattered.

His next assignment was muddy though, and though he would have really loved to do it on his own, he supposed working with Lust and Sloth wasn’t so bad. Lust. At least he wouldn’t be hearing Wrath’s rants, shadowing the brat as he roamed _‘his’_ island. The stupid brat irritated him to no end, though he couldn’t really say _why_ , but at that point, and with so much going on, he couldn’t give himself the luxury of killing him. The sad truth was that he was needed and Envy had no intentions of provoking Dante’s wrath – pun not intended – by dispatching the brat.

And speaking of dispatching, Envy heard the voices and smirked, that was his cue to enter the stage. He forgot about Dante and Lust and threats, and only concentrated on making things go the way they were supposed to. Everything would turn out alright in the end, anyway.

The play was fairly smooth, the script was flawless. The man, Hughes, was rather smart, but he didn’t catch on to the trick until it was too late. With a feral grin, Envy willed his body into a different shape, delighting in the change of expression of his victim.

It went from weariness and just a hint of defiance to blind panic, and in that second, he struck.

“You’re so damn pathetic,” He told him as he bled to death, watching the skin go shallow, “But that’s alright. You’re a human, you’re supposed to be pathetic.”

“Who…” The man’s voice was broken as he cough up blood.

Envy didn’t like using guns to kill off his victims. They were messy and ineffective, generally leading to a dramatic death that was more clichéd than anything.

“A sinner,” The Homunculus said even as he willed his body to melt back into his favorite form, allowing the man to see the face of who had killed him, “Just like everyone else.”

Envy felt inordinately pleased with himself when he watched the light dim and finally extinguish itself in the man’s eyes.

Maes Hughes was dead.

Envy was content, if only for a moment.


	2. Judgment

  


* * *

**Invidia: Judgment.**

_“Judgment for an evil thing is many times delayed some day or two, some century or two, but it is sure as life, it is sure as death.”_

* * *

The short haired Homunculus let out a shaky breath as she shuddered. Envy grinned maliciously.

“You seem tired,” The shape shifter grinned mockingly, “Should I stop now?”

“Fuck you!”

Arching an eyebrow, the elder Sin sat back on a boulder, watching with amusement as Pride slowly picked herself from the floor. Her hair, light brown in color and spiked up in a rather un-lady-like manner, was decorated with dirt and dry leaves after the beating she had just taken. The oroborus in her forehead gave her inhuman nature right away, one of the main reasons Dante had requested him to get rid of her.

By request, it should be understood she demanded her head.

_…If your task is to harm, then harm smartly…_

Envy had something else in mind.

“Stop playing, goddamnit!” Rising slowly, the younger Homunculus snarled, panic hiding under an unhealthy amount of anger, “I’m not a fucking toy!”

“No, you’re rather dead for that,” Grinning viciously, Envy snorted and waved a hand, dismissing her words all too casually, “Dante wants you dead, destroyed, finished and et al.”

“So I gather,” The Ultimate Illusionist crossed her arms over her chest, glaring.

Pride knew she was going to die. No one survived Envy, no one _defeated_ Envy, but damn it if she wouldn’t fight teeth and claws for her life – unlife, existence, _whatever_ – pathetic as it was. She was rather plain for a woman of her age, Envy mused with another wicked smirk, plain and easily ignored in a crowd. Dante didn’t appreciate her, her talents or her power, but he did. He had an itching that wouldn’t go away and a plan began to form in his mind. _She’ll do_ , he thought with amusement, noting the man clothes, the rather unflattering shirt and the oversized pants. _She’ll do nicely._  


“And if I gave you a chance to save your hide?” Pride tensed, not liking the ill humored smile, not at all, “That is, if you’re willing to hide away from the rest of the world.”

“Gee, never knew you cared,” The dry reply only got her another snort, another dismissing wave of hand.

“I don’t,” Envy’s eyes glinted strangely as he stood up gracefully, “I can feed from you, or I can send you away to guard something. Either way, I win.”

The casual wording made the young Homunculus tense. Envy merely looked at her with a calculative glint in his eyes, the same one he had worn when he fed her, right after she was created. She could remember the dark amusement lingering in his eyes as she swallowed the stones in a frenetic need to _be_.

“What do I do?”

Envy smiled.

* * *

They feared him. They were _terrified_.

Envy took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sweet scent of anxiety and a healthy dose of despair. He had forced them to watch, he had _smiled_ while they watched. He felt a shiver of delight as Greed’s screech echoed in the suddenly stilled room, he felt the need to moan out loud as the obnoxious voice died out slowly, painfully so, leaving an echo that lasted even in the tense silence.

_…To fight is to kill…_

“When I say stop,” Envy purred, looking at his audience with a predatorial glint in his eyes, “I _mean_ stop,” He flashed them all with a snarl that spoke of something far more… _unpleasant_ than being sealed away, “Or _else._ ”

He stormed out of the building, transforming as he did so into a random soldier and leaving no trace behind him. If he had looked behind him, he would have seen them there, staring in awed horror, unable to pry their eyes away from Greed’s prision, but he didn’t.

* * *

In the manor, Envy had one of the best rooms. It was a well known fact he was the favorite, the one Dante indulged often for no other reason than he had never failed her. Her prized murderer, the Ultimate Actor. His room was on the last floor, facing the East, though everyone considered the whole floor to be his. No one wanted to share with him, to be vulnerable to his wrath and his short temper; his decidedly wicked glares that promised pain and retribution when one tested the boundaries of his limited patience. His room was wide and with a certain airy quality, with few decorations that only inspired the feeling of caged freedom and the paradox that was its inhabitant. No one dared to enter the room without a very good reason – Dante’s orders or per request – especially after Envy made it perfectly clear he would _rip them to shreds_ if they did.

There was, however, one exception to the rule and it happened to be the newest Lust.

She amused him; that was the most accepted explanation to the eldest’s interest in the dark haired woman. She amused him, thus he tolerated her presence more than he did theirs. Envy was solitary by nature, but unlike Pride, who delighted himself in being as far away from the rest of the world as he could, the green haired Homunculus would generally spend hours in silence, thinking and remembering things not even Dante was privy to, watching over the youngest and those who were required to remain at the manor. Wrath and Sloth, specially, since the two pranksters were generally hard to keep under control.

It was precisely after one of those bothersome encounters that the green haired Homunculus found himself growling against his pillow, trying to put a lid on his bloodlust and the urgency to rip something into ribbons and make garlands out of them. After a moment, or an hour, of biting the fluffy thing – and having torn it at some point – he sighed and turned to glare at the ceiling.

He was bored.

He needed to do _something_. Killing the brats was high on the list of things he would be delighted to do, but he was not stupid enough to provoke his Master over that pair of silly good for nothing. No, he needed to find something he could destroy, that he could… _enjoy_ before he went insane.

Insanity, Envy had found, was vastly overrated. He had been driven to it a few times in the past, and it always left a sour taste in his mouth afterwards. Boredom was slightly better than the gaping nonsense and lack of _being_ that came with insanity. He was not human, he was only body and mind, and if the mind was missing, the body became weak, vulnerable.

Envy despised weakness above anything else.

_…Mercy makes you weak…_

From somewhere in the house, a loud explosion echoed, making the walls rattle. The shape shifter closed his eyes, counted to ten, then opened them and stalked out of his room, snarling.

“Fucking _shits!_ ” He howled venomously as he came down the stairs, stomping his feet hard enough to make the ancient wood creak.

The war cry had the desired effect as the two elusive Homunculi appeared shyly. Wrath hid behind Sloth, as per usual, his eyes wide as he swallowed hard. His hair – ridiculously _unnatural_ red hair – was covered in ashes and dust and something sticky and green, which Envy had no desire of touching. Sloth, for his part, shrunk his shoulders, peering at him from under long black lashes and smiled nervously. His dark blue hair was mussed, the short spikes similarly covered in debris.

They had enough sense to look rueful.

“What, exactly,” They shivered as the older Sin spoke in a soft, velvety voice, his eyes glowing with murder, “Do you think you were doing?”

“Wrath said-“

“The lake-“

“To stop the flood-“

“Then Sloth changed it-“

“And Wrath screamed like a girl-“

“I did not! It’s your fault the wall broke-“

“Did I set it on fire?”

Watching the bickering without interest, Envy rolled his eyes, looked at the ceiling and hoped someone out in the world would fucking _hurry up_ making new Homunculi to replace the absolute failures he had been landed with. They were powerful, he was willing to admit that, Wrath, the Ultimate Flame and Sloth, the Ultimate Trap, but they were still children at mind, and it was grinding his patience – not that he had much to begin with – to dust.

“Fucking shut up!” Snapping menacingly, Envy had a second of satisfaction as he watched the young Homunculi scramble away from him, breath hitching in panic, “I don’t give a rat’s ass about what happened or who started it! Go fix the fucking wall or you’ll explain to Master what happened!” Seeing them hesitate when they nodded, he bared his teeth, changing them into long fangs in a second, “ _Now!_ ”

Smiling nastily as both paled beyond white and straight into transparent, the shape shifter huffed in irritation. He watched them hurry down the corridor, as far away from him as they could. He took a moment to notice their feeble attempts to emulate Greed’s clothing and snorted again, before retiring to his room again.

He was tempted to try and get drunk again, if only to break the tedious routine.

* * *

“You’re not her.”

Lust faltered. Her hand pulled back faster than the eye could see, and her face was shadowed. Placing both of her hands against the mark on her chest, she looked away.

“I wanted… I…” Inhuman eyes fixed on the red ones, and the Sin bit her lip, “I shouldn’t be here.”

The Ishbalan watched as a the strange woman slid away into the night, finally disappearing in a brush of moonlight. The young boy held himself tightly, trying to chase away the chill of early morning and the ghostly apparition before him. The eyes had not been the reddish pink that held laughter and mischievousness before, but an unholy purple that spoke of death. Her skin had been pale, sickly so, filled with such an ill tone that made his stomach wrench.

“Oh brother, what have you done?” The soft voice broke the silence as the first rays of dawn appeared in the distance, coloring the sand, the sky and everything the eye could see into an unearthly golden hue.

Closing his eyes against the light, the Ishbalan boy shivered and sent a prayer to reach those he loved the most, to protect them from the Evil that lurked their lands.

  


* * *

  
Lust entered the manor with long strides. She looked determined when she strolled towards the glorious staircase and her heels clicked on the marble floors. The little runts, as she fondly called Wrath and Sloth, were bickering over the remains of the northern wall of the second floor and stopped their petty fight for a moment to look at her. Lust ignored them, continuing her trail up to the fourth floor, to Envy’s Lair.

“Shouldn’t we warn her?” Sloth asked after a moment, blowing a strand of hair off his face, blinking, “Envy was mighty pissed off.”

“Bah,” Wrath was still sulking about the whole situation, and he kicked a bit of the fallen wall with a snort, “Better her than us, bro, better her than us.”

Lust heard them, distantly, but paid them no heed. She needed… she wanted… she didn’t know. But Envy would know, because Envy _always_ knew. He was the oldest and wisest and he never lied to them. He was cruel and vicious and rude, but he always told them the truth.

And after that painful confrontation with the past, a past so twisted and misunderstood she could barely recognize it, she needed the truth. Opening the door with trembling fingers, the long haired Homunculus slid inside, closing it behind her as she took a sharp breath.

“What the fuck do you-“ Whirling around from where he was glaring down from the window, Envy turned with narrowed eyes, but stopped mid-sentence to take in the despairing image before him, “Lust?”

There was a broken sob, and then she flung herself at him. Envy blinked, feeling the taller woman curled around him, _clawing_ at him. She wasn’t crying, simply because she didn’t know how to, but her body trembled as her breathing hitched erratically. Staring down at her, amused, he eased himself back on his bed, feeling the mattress sink as she fell with him, tightly clutching his back.

“What on earth are you doing?” He asked after a while, when she was no longer sobbing dryly, just burying her face against his chest, “Lust?”

“Tell me,” Looking up at him, her eyes seemed almost, _almost_ human, “Tell me what we are. _Who_ are we?”

Envy stared at her, frowning. Lust had never had an existential crisis, few of them ever did, actually. Their… _inexistence_ was something that became trivial under the weight of their power and the bloodlust that went along with it. Some of them were too silly, too childish when they had been created, to worry about what they felt. Like Gluttony, the second oldest, the source of their power… the spineless idiot that trailed after Lust and found shelter in her pretty words and sophisticated mannerisms. Like the brats he had just yelled at, the twins that had been revived by a disturbed and grief mad-father at the price of his own life.

Others, like Greed – who only wanted power and glory, who never had just _enough_ – or like Pride – who went around plotting and planning and wanted nothing more than to please their Master – preferred to ignore their situation, the contradiction and the doubts in favor of enjoying the power and immortality.

There had never been someone quite like himself, who sheltered in Hatred, never wanting to look at the mirror and _see_ the monster.

_…Either victory or death, nothing else matters…_

“Sins,” He replied after a long moment, not remembering when his hand had begun to run over the silky hair, when hers had started to trace patterns against his chest, “We’re sins.”

* * *

“Sloth displeases me,” Envy looked up from where he was reading, arching an eyebrow almost curiously. Dante turned a page from her book, “Dispose of him, he’s… inappropriate.”

“Wrath might revolt, if you remove his twin,” Frowning, Envy watched with ill amusement as Dante smiled, “But then, perhaps you wish me to replace them both.”

“No,” The air in the room chilled, “Only Sloth. I wish Wrath to suffer. It doesn’t matter if you can’t replace him yet, remove him from my presence.”

Envy nodded, face a carefully carved mask of detachment. Words he had heard centuries prior ringed through his mind, curling and twisting and making him uncomfortable.

_…Foul entertainment, cruelty is only befitting of monsters…_

But those words had been told to a boy, a human boy who was learning how to kill, and he was neither young, nor human anymore. Snorting, he closed the book, his mood soured, and left the room without a word.

Envy had the feeling his meal was going to turn rather bitter.

* * *

It turned out to be tricky. Not because Sloth was particularly strong or smart – at least not compared to _him_ – but because he had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him jumpy. Envy commited two mistakes that could have given the game away, had Sloth been paying more attention, but they apparently weren’t enough to break the illusion.

“Heh, remember that?” The blue haired Homunculus pointed to a clearing in the forest, where everything had been burnt so thoroughly the ground was still black and nothing grew on it.

“Yeah,” Envy shrugged uncomfortably, not so much for Sloth’s relaxed stance, but for the arm wrapped around his own, tugging him around.

He continued to dodge the persistent chatter, answering with monosyllables and distracting Sloth with vague replies. When he deemed them far enough from the manor, he stopped abruptly. He had to make a clean kill, so that Wrath wouldn’t come and ruin everything.

_…If your task is to kill, then kill cleanly…_

“Wrath?” Slitted purple eyes fixed on him almost worriedly, eyes much and _nothing_ like his own. Sloth frowned, “Brother, are you ill?”

Envy smiled, umpleasantly. He amused himself for a second, with the realization that not death, not even being ressurrected had been enough to sever the bond between the twins. He amused himself for a second, then he snarled. As he bared his teeth, his body reshaped itself, back to the familiar lanky limbs that were easy to move.

“You!”

Jumping off the floor, even before Sloth could start to turn it into one of his sticky traps, he landed to the side, spun on his heel and kicked the younger inhuman square in the chest, sending him flying away from him. As he walked over to the fallen Sin, he smiled. With a panicked cry, Sloth dissolved his own arms into a sickly green goo and shot it against him. Envy allowed him to ‘trap’ him, letting himself be dragged close to the ashen white Homunculus.

“It’s not your fault,” The shape shifter said softly, almost gently, his eyes glinting strangely. Leaning in towards the terrified Sloth, who was uselessly trying to crush him with his grip, Envy didn’t seem to mind, or even feel it, “It’s _him_ Master wants to suffer… She wants him to _regret_ it.”

“No!” Whimpering pathetically, Sloth shook his head wildly, looking almost human in his despair.

“Tell me,” Envy felt drunk with glee as the other screeched, feeling the fingers sinking through his altered anatomy and into _him_ , burning from the inside out, “Was he even that good of a fuck?”

Sloth looked horrified, his contorted face burning into Envy’s mind’s eye, even as he disappeared, leaving behind nothing but a sick puddle of… well, _something._ Relishing in the kill, and still feeling light headed from the sudden rush of new power coursing through his veins, Envy laughed as he hadn’t done in centuries.

He pretended not to see the shadow slithering away. He pretended he did not care she had seen him. That she knew.

A mocking voice within, sounding suspiciously like an old Xianese crone, told him he was a lousy liar.

* * *

His eyes snapped open as his hand was already flying, fingers curled into claws. Envy snarled when grabbed something, hair apparently, and there was a small moan as he clenched his fist on the slippery strands. Lust whimpered as she looked down at him, wincing as his grip on her hair tightened. Her hand was still pressing against him, cold and warm and tingling and suddenly… suddenly… it had been long.

Too damn _long_.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Envy hissed. He started to sit up, eyes darkening as he flexed his hand again, tightening his grip in warning.

Lust said nothing, moaning softly, her dark hair obscuring half of her face and then, then he _knew_.

_…Cruelty is only fit for those who await death with open arms…_

When she pressed her lips to his, he welcomed her. He pressed back and let his tongue out to taste _decay_ , to taste the ashen softness of a willing mouth that left a bitter aftertaste of lies in his own. Envy made a strange purring noise in the back of his throat, then he bit her almost cruelly. She didn’t recoil, didn’t pull back. Her torn lip healed almost instantly, and if anything, it only made her press more insistently against him. He laughed in amusement as she tried to fit herself on his lap, gasped when she ground against him, whimpered when she bit him back.

"Finally taking upon your namesake, then?" He grinned into the kiss, and a terrible laugh passed through the lips firmly attached to his.

Envy stopped talking afterwards.

* * *

Lust was restless. She wandered around the manor, entertaining herself with nonsense. Studying the, for lack of better wording, heartbroken Wrath consumed a good deal of her time and the morbid knowledge, sharing the secret, made her giddy. It was a funny feeling, in the pit of her stomach, ghostly familiar as she roamed the manor, Gluttony trailing after her, entertaining her, helping her kill time while she waited.

Envy had left almost a month before, and things around the manor were tense and silent.

Greed was sealed away – the horrible screech and the terrible anger that Envy had unleashed was still fresh in their minds – and Pride was gone, had been gone for a long while, already deep in his plot with their Master. Sloth… well, Lust felt something cold and hot coiling inside her every time she thought about it, and wondered for the umpteenth time just _when_ was Envy going to drag his sorry ass back into the manor. Wrath was a miserable shadow of what he had been, going on about his orders in silence and no longer allowing things to burn around him if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Gluttony… Gluttony didn’t count, because he only cared about eating and being around Lust.

And Lust… Lust was terribly bored and alone and full of, well, _lust_.

But Envy would be back soon and they could go back to being snarky to each other and not bored, not alone and certainly very lustful.

How long it could take him to find a man in a town so small as Rizembul anyway?

Lust wanted to fuck Envy, but since she couldn’t, she decided to settle with second best.

Killing something.

* * *

“You’re jealous.”

Lust gave out a small cry as she closed the book, whirling around to glare at the intruder in her room. When her eyes settled on the smirking Envy, she snarled. His smirk only widened as she did, and ignoring her scowl, he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Standing swiftly, the taller woman stalked towards the window, stubbornly fixing her eyes outside, “That’s _your_ Sin, not mine,” She added snidely after a moment.

Envy laughed harshly, then pressed tightly against her, forcing her to lean against the glass. Lust hissed as her skin tingled where it touched the cold surface and felt a ting of arousal at the forceful caress.

“Be that way then, if you steal my Sin,” Envy breathed on her ear, voice laughing mockingly at her as he grounded against her, “Then maybe I should steal yours.”

Lust freed one of her arms out of his grasp and tried to hit him, but he merely moved out of the way and grinned. The same goddamn grin he had been wearing when he came back from killing Wrath, amused and bitter. The same goddamn grin he had been wearing when he came back from Rizembul, a demure Sloth on his heels. Lust snarled at the memory, allowing her nails to grow threateningly.

“You _are_ jealous,” Envy snickered, even as she sank her dreadful claws on him, piercing skin and muscle with a startling ease. Instead of recoiling from the flare of pain, he moaned.

_…Do not taint its honor with pointless emotion…_

“Shut _up_.”

He was laughing when she pressed her lips to his, not a single trace of tenderness in the gesture, her tongue pressing demandingly on his. He gasped when she twisted her hands, her nails still deep in his skin and buried his hands on her hair. Fisting them, he snarled as he pulled her head back slightly, eyes glinting wickedly.

“You’re so _lovely_ , all murderously violent like that,” Envy hissed the words against her lips, seeing her neck straining, “But jealousy is for humans Lust,” He slid one of his hands down her back, fingers trailing on her skin almost gently, “And that,” Suddenly, she arched with a screech as she felt the clawed fingers sinking into her back, “We are _not._ ”

She twisted uncomfortably as he tightened his grip on her, agony coursing through her nerves as she pressed against him to try and escape the pain. When he let her go, she stumbled backwards, letting her weight rest against the windowsill.

“Then what _are_ we?” Lust’s voice was a breathy whisper as she panted, from exhaustion and pain and _wanting_ , dark eyes narrowed as she looked up at him, feeling the wounds throbbing even if they were healed already.

“Flesh and memories, dear, flesh and memories,” His right hand tilted her face up when he pulled her towards him again, “Body and Mind and no Soul, that’s the way things are supposed to be.”

She wanted to scream, to wipe the smirk off his face, to _kill him_. Instead, she let out a groan and allowed herself be dragged down the spiral of deception that came with sex. Mindless, pointless sex.

Lust felt the need to cry, but since she couldn’t, she laughed.

* * *

Envy didn’t like Lior.

He couldn’t really say _why_ , but he didn’t like the city. Maybe it was the climate, or the structure, or its people… or the fact it had that dooming feeling around it, like Xerxes had had once.

But that didn’t matter, because Xerxes was gone, and anyone who remembered or _cared_ about it was gone too.

Envy grinned.

_…You exist only when you are moving, when your body becomes a weapon and your whole existence a goal…_

Admittedly, his target was rather easy to spot and the chase had been rather dull, but something had been bothering him. He had a pretty good idea of what it was. His last encounters with Lust had been strained. Admittedly, they had been _good_ , but then again, in his long existence, he had yet to be proven there was such a thing as _‘bad’_ sex. But after the little episode when he had collected Sloth…

“Monster!”

Dodging the hit as the pitiful human struggled to keep fighting, Envy sighed irritably. He watched without amusement as the man dragged himself upwards, wounded pride shining in his eyes. His left arm was broken and there was a nasty gash on his side. Envy scowled, he was getting sloppy.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” The Homunculus gabbed the man by the throat, raising him over a foot off the ground with ease and _squeezed_ , watching the man writhe helplessly in his grasp, “Die already!”

Envy smiled sadistically as he threw the man against the wall, discarding him like a rag doll. The sick crack of bone snapping and flesh smashing made him feel marginally better.

“Cain!” Came the infernal shriek from the mouth of the alley.

Envy looked up from his work, wide eyed.

“Shit.”

The woman was standing there, watching him through wide eyes and trembling like a leaf. Envy snarled menacingly, then froze when her features became clear. The skin was too dark, the eyes to wide, the nose a bit too crooked and the front bangs were out of place, but it was _her_. Staring at him in a mix of horror and defiance, like _she_ had done, all those years, _lifetimes_ ago.

“ _Xi Feng_ ,” Envy didn’t realize he had breathed the words until he saw the woman give a tentative step back.

He flexed his clawed hands, steeling his nerves. Never mind who she looked like, he had a job to do.

For Dante.

Because he had to.

Letting out a horrible growl that no human throat would ever be able to produce, the Sin leaped away in frustration.

* * *

Lust hated feeling like she was the second choice. She was selfish and it was her nature to demand attention. Envy grinned every time he saw her sulk around because Dante sent him away.

She got rather feisty when he came back, too.

“Monster!” Smoothly avoiding getting his head cut off, the Sin snarled as he glared at the nosy farmer.

Annoyed, he realized it was not the time to be thinking about Lust and her stupid issues with their… _whatever_ that they had. He was supposed to be killing the idiots villagers to start a dispute with Lior.

Right.

_…Always think of your opponents and yourself as if you were already dead, so when the moment comes, you will not feel troubled…_

Except he was a bit lacking in the killing part. Not that he wasn’t trying, because he was… but he found, to his own horror, that killing was turning rather monotonous. He’d been doing a good deal of it ever since Ishbal.

Ishbal had been where Lust came from.

  
_Concentrate!_ Growling, Envy finally decided to get the goddamn massacre done and over with. He broke a few necks, impaled some idiots and literally ripped the head off another terrified man, before deciding it was probably what Dante wanted.

  
_Probably_.

Glancing around the bloodstained streets, he cringed a bit. So _maybe_ he had overdone it a bit. And _maybe_ Dante had expressly demanded subtlety.

“Aw, _fuck it_.”

* * *

Envy locked himself up for a week. He didn’t eat, he didn’t speak and only the sounds of pacing and the occasional curses could be heard from behind his door.

Envy had had an epiphany.

Not that anyone but himself would ever be privy to it, but it was _brilliant_. Body and Mind and no Soul… A Homunculus. But then… old gears and forgotten ideas began to grow, to mix and twist and become something else entirely, leaving him in with frantic need to write down, to give it _form_.

He wrote and wrote and wrote until the ink was gone, and then he wrote with blood, because he couldn’t stop and it didn’t matter anyway, he would never run out of blood. The arrays and the formulas shaped up into a monstrosity, a potential disaster larger than himself, written in blood to shed more blood. It left him mindless.

Mind and Soul and no Body. Spirits trapped and sealed away, anchored pseudo-immortals. Knowledge preserved through time and war. Power withheld in the fuzzy memories of inexistence.

_…The purpose of the Fight is to destroy the enemy…_

Body and Soul and no Mind. But that, _that_ was the key. To create the perfect components, to dissolve them away into its purest form, to maintain them pure enough for the Gate to deem them worthy.

Envy grinned. It made no sense at all and it was _perfect_ , some sort of enlightenment that could grant Dante what she desired the most.

And because of that… he would destroy it as soon as it was complete.

* * *

“You failed.”

Envy cringed as Dante took a sip of her wine, her voice strangely disappointed, yet smug. She looked at him critically, her lips twisting into a mocking smirk.

“You failed, _again_ ,” The ancient looking woman stood up, walking towards the desk in the far corner of the room. Envy tensed as she sighed irritably, “I seem to know why, too. Do you recognize this?”

Envy paled as the battered diary was thrown in his general direction. _She couldn’t…_ He licked his lips. He hadn’t finished that theory yet, with the Lab 5 business and all that, he had almost forgotten about it.

_Oh **shit**._

If Dante had the diary, it was because she had been reading it. And if she had…

“It seems you have been too distracted lately,” The old woman smiled condescendingly, “It’s my fault too, I’ve been far too lenient with you.”

Envy tensed as Dante narrowed her eyes, her hands clasping together, then pulling back to reveal a rather nasty looking ball of dark blue light.

“Your… _affair_ with Lust will end,” Her eyes narrowed dangerously, the Alchemic energy in her hands glowing menacingly, “It has been enough Envy, choose. Either you or her. I only need one skilled assassin for this particular plot to work.”

Envy stared at her, eyes widening. Oh sure, Dante was an evil bitch, he knew that, and he had been ordered to kill – _and consume_ – his fellow Homunculi before… but he had never quite liked any of them. Lust was… she was different. He _liked_ her, liked talking to her, liked fighting with her, liked _fucking_ her. Lust was the closest thing to a friend he had had in a very long while.

He didn’t want to get rid of her. She was _his_.

_…Emotion makes you weak…_

“Well?” Dante arched an eyebrow sardonically, the light between her hands making her face look eerily haunting.

Envy hardened his face into a bored expression, and waved a hand dismissingly.

“What makes you think I give a rat’s ass about her?”

* * *

He watched impassively as Dante played her part like a pro. She scolded both Lust and Sloth on their sloppy work at killing off that Hughes man, at having forced _him_ to intervene… despite the fact it had been _his_ job to kill the man in the first place. But Sloth was soon ignored, though, in favor of giving Lust a harsh tongue lashing. She stood through it almost stoic, for which Envy felt something, that a human would have called guilt, twisting his insides uncomfortably.

“You are weak Lust,” Dante narrowed her eyes dangerously, clasping her hands together and gathering the fearsome blue light in them again, “I have no use for a weak servant.”

_…You do not fight for enjoyment, you fight for purpose…_

Gluttony let out a cry of despair, while Sloth paled visibly as their fellow Sin shrieked. Her mind was crushed and her body was reduced to basic components in a show of lights. She dissolved into nothing in a matter of minutes, but the echoes of her cries were engraved into their minds.

“Go back to your duties!” Dante snapped irritably, giving them a cold glare, “And do not _dare_ to fail me again.”

Sloth gently lead the sobbing Gluttony away, while Envy stood there for a longer moment, his eyes trying to bore a hole into Dante. After a long silence, the old woman raised a mocking eyebrow at him, and he turned to leave, his stomach twisting in disgust.

_This means war._


	3. Innocence

  


 

* * *

**Invidia: Innocence.**

_“People who shut their eyes to reality simply invite their own destruction, and anyone who insists on remaining in a state of innocence long after that innocence is dead turns himself into a monster.”_

* * *

He’s old. Not nearly as old as Envy, who’s the oldest of them all – who probably older than _time_ – but old enough to have seen her name on half a dozen different faces before.

He doesn’t quite remember, he’s got a very bad memory as it is, but he feels Lust used to mean something else, something _more_. There were others before him, others he never knew because they outlived their purpose far too often; he doesn’t know how many Lusts there were before him and Envy will never tell, but even so, compared to those he _did_ know, this Lust is something strange, something _precious_.

The very first Lust he met was pretty. Perhaps the prettiest woman he has ever seen, but she was faulty, and so she ended at some point. Her beauty was her worst asset, even someone as slow as him could see that, and her trivial pursuit for humanity had left its mark on their Master.

Gluttony hadn’t seen it, but he heard it when Envy disposed of her, and once more, her name was vacant.

Gluttony is aware he’s childish; he’s aware of a thousand little things no one ever bothers to ask him, because it’s generally accepted he’s stupid and slow, but he’s fine with that. That’s how things work, after all. He’s supposed to follow and consume, no one cares if he thinks or not or what.

Maybe Envy cares, but Envy’s always too busy with whatever Master wants at the moment to really pay him attention the way he would want him to, would need him too.

He wants someone to follow, because thinking is so very tedious and no one cares if he does, anyway, so it’s better to take orders and obey.

The second Lust, he remembers, the second Lust gave him that. She was small and childlike, unfitting to her name, but powerful and useful and his Master had let her stay… for a while. He remembers her laughter some times, when he sees something amusing – something amusing enough to ignore the craving for a moment – and wishes she would be around to share it with her. That Lust always had a joke to share with him and she cared enough to wait for him to answer her questions, even if he took too long to do it.

But like the others, that Lust was faulty, and when Master gave the order, Gluttony watched Envy rip her apart, wondering for a moment who would he follow now that she was gone.

Eventually a third Lust came, one that took very seriously upon his namesake. That wasn’t a Lust he enjoyed spending time with, because he was Master’s toy and Gluttony had learned very early to never ever touch anything that was _Master’s_. He wasn’t a she, anyway, and Gluttony didn’t feel interested in him at all.

For a while, he followed Envy and tried to be quiet, until that third Lust bored his Master and was disposed of.

Between that time and the birth of the next one, though, his first real task arrived, and his Master forced the Hunger into something tangible. He doesn’t remember well what happened then, except that he hurt when it stopped and only Envy and Lust where there when he awoke.

The fourth Lust was so quiet… She would smile often and pat his head, her voice a small silbant whisper that belied her terrible power. Gluttony had heard her screech only once, but his ears had buzzed and bled for days afterwards. She then made him promise to never interfere with her work again, because she hated it when he got hurt.

The fourth Lust, unlike the three before her, had cared about him.

She’s the one he remembers best, because she was the last thing Envy killed before going to sleep. Those were very lonesome days, Gluttony remembers with a shudder, days when Envy prowled around them with a sneer and a taunting word, so unlike Envy it was scary.

Gluttony had never been afraid of another Sin before.

Eventually Envy awoke, though, and chose a new Lust. One for Gluttony, he said, so Gluttony would stop sulking and actually do his share of work.

It was the nicest thing someone has ever done for him and to this day, Gluttony is very thankful for it. The fifth Lust was a very caustic creature, snide and ugly inside as she was pretty outside, but she was Gluttony’s, and he took care of her.

She had to go once Master realized she was loyal to _him_ rather than _her_ , but Gluttony didn’t really mind it. She was tasty too, in more ways than one, and he doesn’t regret having eaten her to prove his own faith.

Master has always taken care of him, for better or for worse, even in those ugly times when she raises the Hunger and there’s nothing he wouldn’t give to make Master happy.

When Master’s happy, no one dies – except humans, but humans are meant to die anyway so it doesn’t matter.

The sixth Lust was a very brief failure that Gluttony vaguely remembers as she tried to kill their Master. He can’t even conjure the shape of her face anymore, but it might have something to do with the fact there wasn’t much left of her after her outburst.

That, if anything, served to remind everyone who was in control, and why.

For many years afterwards, their little family found itself reduced to five, rather than seven, as Greed had been sealed away and their Master didn’t want another Lust. Those were lonely years, too, though he had Envy to look up to, and a never ending line of Sins that very rarely lived more than a decade.

One day, however, Envy called him and both left for the desert, to an abandoned settlement where a Homunculus was said to be. Gluttony was mildly hopeful and very hungry, and he had even considered asking Envy to, just for once, let him have his share of failure.

But Envy didn’t kill their new sister and Gluttony didn’t eat her. Instead, they fed her, and as her long, sensual limbs stretched and a malicious glint appeared in her eyes, Gluttony felt devotion develop almost instantly.

Ever since, he hasn’t been away from her.

This Lust is pretty, the prettiest in a queer way he can’t really name; She smiles at him, in a way that lights up a room in a macabre dead light and pats his back. Gluttony follows her as he has follow others before, purposely ignoring the strange sense that this is the last time he does so.

Lust wants to be human, to be able to feel and taste and _be_ in ways Gluttony doesn’t understand, because he has never been human before. But her lovely features turn brilliant when she talks about the past and what she could do when her heart beated in her breast, so he nods when she asks, and promise to turn human alongside her, if it’ll make her happy.

Lust, _this_ Lust, is special, so very special, Gluttony is scared of what he feels he could do for her.

Envy makes a random remark, and Lust laughs in amusement. It’s always like that between them, sort of friendly, sort of snide, but so very welcome. He’s not jealous of Envy. Envy’s older and wiser and he _knows_ what’s best. Gluttony’s never jealous, because he knows that’s no good. Jealousy is useless. Envy, on the other hand, is lethal.

So he sits back and wonders, waiting patiently for Lust to come back to him. She might share things with Envy that she doesn’t share with anyone else, but she always comes back to him.

No matter what happens, Gluttony knows she’ll be back. He doesn’t want to think what would happen if she didn’t.


	4. Corruption

  


* * *

**Invidia: Corruption.**

 

_“All things tend to corrupt perverted minds.”_

 

* * *

Such a boring place, a boring time… Envy needed something to _do_ , other than prowl restlessly around the countryside. He needed entertainment, but Dante’s newest scheme was almost ready to be set in motion. When he reached his destination, wearing a face he’d perfected on a whim two hundred years ago and which he hadn’t been able to use before, he noted dully that the small town was archaic at best. Stupid country people with stupidly simple country mindsets and stupidly boring country lives.

Dante had said there was a promising alchemist in here, but Envy highly doubted it; any smart, promising _anything_ would have left as soon as humanely possible.

Still, patting the uniform distastefully – he _hated_ blue – ‘Colonel Heiss’ stepped down the train and sneered at the town before heading to the small military quarters set at the end of the main street. Behind him, he absently noted that a couple of low ranking soldiers scrambled to take his bags – which were mostly filled with books, not that they needed to know _that_ – and follow him with as much dignity as the poor sods could manage. Envy rolled his eyes. After twenty minutes of dodging questions and setting himself as owner and master of the office, he went to look for the so called prodigy Dante wanted to have under her wing. Wrath and Sloth had brought the report about him, but Envy really didn’t trust the brats for information, though Dante seemed to believe their exaggerated praise on the young man.

He was pleasantly surprise to find Zolf J. Kimblee was, indeed, quite the promising tool.

He was interested in human transmutation already, so half of Envy’s work was already done, but the young man with the eerie golden eyes was much more interested in _destroying_ than creating; not that _that_ was necessarily a fault, the forging of the stone needed much destroying, indeed. The boy was bright, though, in that strange way that obscured rather than enlightened things, but which Envy found quite fetching. It was a much needed break after centuries of dealing with spineless idiots who wanted to bring utopia or some equally senseless concept with their power. Quite simply, life had made Kimblee a hard creature; an orphan who had been disdained by everyone and everything and who drowned his loneliness in books and alchemy. Perfect victim and more than willing sacrifice, Envy thought gleefully.

“I could sponsor you,” Colonel Heiss said with that quiet, hissing voice of his, giving the young Alchemist a tiny smile, “A few string pulled, and you could take the exam in a year.”

But the golden eyes were smart – smarter than the last pair of golden eyes Envy had encountered – and the boy didn’t jump at the chance like a senseless creature. _Smart_ , Envy remarked to himself, while keeping his poker face in place.

“And what’s in for you?”

_Very_ smart. The boy understood how the world worked; he didn’t expect to get anything for free. Envy realized he liked that.

“A good soldier for the military,” Heiss said calmly, clear blue eyes glinting, “And perhaps someone to continue my brother’s research.”

“Your brother’s research,” Kimblee narrowed his eyes, showing a feline calculative nature that was both intriguing and amusing, “And what’s that about, exactly?”

“Why, human transmutation, of course.”

He’d said it so calmly, so _easily_ , as if they were talking about the weather and not one of the greatest taboos in Alchemy. Kimblee was both awed and weary of the stranger that had simply waltzed into his life and offered – demanded him to take – a place in the military. The sun caught Heiss’ hair and made it flare to an otherworldly red, almost as if his head was on fire. He looked terrible, powerful and barely controlled among the filth of the small town. Kimblee had nothing there, nothing but bitter memories and resentment, no one to come back to, no one to miss or write to. He smiled, sincerely for once, and nodded.

“Alright, sir.”

 

* * *

 

Kimblee had made himself at home with Envy’s current identity. While he normally hated having to wear another face and play a stupid character for so long – the excitement of it ran off too fast –, Colonel Heiss was a name he really didn’t mind using; the man was powerful and commanding, yet quiet and slick like a viper, always ready to strike. And he really didn’t mind having to keep the charade up at all hours – at least he was getting a decent amount of sleep, all things considered – since Kimblee’s presence was enough in exchange. The young man was fascinating; how he moved, how he learned, how he acted. By the second month of having the Alchemist in his ‘home’, Envy noted with amusement that Kimblee was starting to imitate Heiss’ cool façade, the quiet words and the dignified movements, as well as the hot temper that was always hinted below the surface, but whether his efforts were conscious or not, he didn’t know.

Personally, Envy thought it suited him rather well, because Kimblee was pretty in that predator way that he found all so appealing and which humans disdained so often.

“How it goes, my friend?”  Heiss called as he entered the basement swiftly, his uniform pristine as ever and his hair carefully tamed back into slickness, “Any breakthroughs?”

Kimble stood up from the floor – he always did when Heiss came into the room – and smiled. It was a discrete gesture, small and controlled, something Envy appreciated because it meant his tutelage was not being wasted. Kimblee was sweaty and tired from spending all day lurking around the basement, tracing arrays and figuring out ways to make something human… _less_ human, to put it somehow. Envy was bored with paperwork, bored with Pride in his office, telling him what to do and certainly bored with the stupid red hair that _wasn’t_ green, but these moments, where he could clearly see the monster growing behind the golden eyes, they made it all worth his trouble.

“I think so, yes, sir,” Kimblee didn’t fall back when Heiss walked towards him, nor he swallowed nervously like everyone else. Envy appreciated that courage, even if it was badly misplaced. “I might, uh…” Blue eyes, mercurial, really, stared him down from up close. That was a classic intimidation technique, the one Envy knew humans found the most uncomfortable, but even if he was almost pressing against the thin body, Kimblee held his ground. “I need to…”

“Experiment further?” The Colonel provided easily, his smile sharp enough to cut through steel, “Why of course, my dear, I’ll make sure to get you some… practice targets.”

And Kimblee looked so _pleased_ with himself, so content to have been acknowledged. Such an insecure man, Envy thought, one that depended almost exclusively on his opinion to function properly. He thought of Gluttony for a moment, but discarded the analogy almost at once. Kimblee would be useful only once, he would go and fight for what Envy told him to and then, once his mission was over, he would be taken away with the rest and become another glowing dot of red inside a stone.

Heiss and Kimblee shared a smile, but for completely different reasons.

 

* * *

 

The day of Kimblee’s practical exam, Pride was in a pleasant enough mood to allow Envy to sit among the judges. Or maybe he realized that if he continued to make Envy’s life complicated, he would find himself sitting along with Greed, rotting underground. Envy loved knowing he was better, _the best_ among them, more so when all too haughty Pride was forced to acknowledge he was ill fitted to fight his older sibling.

But that wasn’t important, what mattered was the eerie golden glow on Kimblee’s eyes when they brought in the convict. Heiss himself had been present when those tattoos had been made, the ones that slapped together when Kimblee’s smile broke free and which caused a shower of red mist when he grasped the poor sod’s chest with those deadly hands. Heiss had been the one to ensure no one else could ever be tattooed that way again. Stifling a moan of his own, he felt the bloodlust skyrocket as the golden eyed man shook his arms, relieving them from the tension.

Silence stretched as the shocked audience sat immobile, incapable to comprehend what they had just seen. And then Colonel Heiss stood up and began clapping, a discrete sound but which was quickly echoed by the Führer himself. From there, the brass broke into pleased cheering that comforted and inebriated the still standing Kimblee.

“Your pet is pretty,” Pride told Envy with a tiny smirk, “Though I’d have never thought you to be the human lover sort.”

“Well,” And Envy sneered warningly, blue eyes flashing violet for a second, “I’m not the one who ruts with them, so I say we’re even.”

And even as he felt _the_ eye piercing on him, he left the room without looking back. Kimblee’s golden eyes peered at him, unreadable expression in his face. Pride smiled.

 

* * *

 

Second Lieutenant Frank Archer arrived at the office one rainy Thursday. The Führer himself had granted him recommendation to be transferred into Colonel Heiss’ wing, but not for any of the reasons the ambitious young man had hoped. The military was Pride’s personal toy, he did with it what he pleased, so as long Dante’s schemes were executed accordingly. Having Envy in the ranks was contradictory in itself, because Pride knew better than anyone that his older brother was merely following along on a whim. He couldn’t care less about Dante’s plans, they all knew that, but still their Master held the Shape Shifter in high regard and allowed him to do as he pleased. Pride thought that maybe if he gave Envy means to entertain himself, the little whimsical beast would allow him to run his plans in peace.

There was nothing more uncouth than being force to watch Envy go on a violent rampage whenever his willingness dried out, after all.

So he had looked around, sniffed a few files from the main records – he really had to get a secretary soon, one that didn’t ask stupid questions – until he stumbled across a promising young man by the name Frank Archer. He seemed to be everything Envy needed to entertain himself for a couple of years, so Pride promoted him and sent him over and hoped to _the Gate_ that would be enough to have his ‘brother’ out of his hair for a while.

Lt. Archer interviewed himself with the Colonel, feeling the same sort of fascination Kimblee had for the man almost instantly. The cool mannerisms and the quiet voice belied an explosive nature that Archer had no intentions of confronting. Ever. He was given a neat desk and a pile of paperwork to file and sort out, while Heiss simply locked himself into his office. If the men under his command thought he was working, they would have been solely disappointed to find out their ‘leader’ spent all afternoon playing darts.

 

* * *

 

Envy began to suspect he was the subject of unrequited attention when Archer and Kimblee first met. The thought amused him, so he allowed their delusions to continue, curious to see how far they were willing to take it; after all, there wasn’t really much he had to do, aside studying a few profiles of people Dante needed him to impersonate from time to time. War was brewing, but it wasn’t ready yet.

Kimblee had developed nicely, too. Cool, slick and completely remorseless as he used his talents to blow people into bright clouds of red mist. With each new assassination mission he grew wilder, almost reckless. Envy recognized the spark of insanity in his eyes and was able to tell when exactly did the man stopped seeing the explosions as work and began taking them as a hobby. Envy was sure he would be delighted to know there was a massive genocide coming. Archer, for his part, seemed intent on becoming prominent within the military, going on about his others without a second thought. He stacked paperwork and did everything Heiss was supposed to do – and which Envy had no particular desire to acknowledge – always expecting to be given recognition for his efforts. The Colonel humored him occasionally, mostly because the reactions – Archer’s barely hidden glee and Kimblee’s scowling jealousy – were entertaining.

Still, there was nothing more amusing – except perhaps, dismember someone, and by the Gate, hadn’t Envy done that in _ages_ – than to watch the two stubborn mules clash heads and egos at every possible moment. Kimble was not above using his rank to gain an infuriating response from Archer, who would then purposely set Kimblee’s papers in disarray. Like petty children really, but who had no idea of their real purpose in the world.

“Alchemy, alchemy,” Archer said in a haughty mocking tone, “Is that all you can think about? What are you doing with your paperwork? Blowing it up, too?”

“I should blow your stupid face _in_ ,” Kimblee bared his teeth threateningly, “But then you’d just go crying over with Heiss.”

“ _Colonel_ Heiss,” The Lieutenant reminded him acidly, “And it is not my fault that he _appreciates_ hard work.”

“Oh, so _I_ don’t work? Is that what you mean?” The Crimson Alchemist, for all his efforts to remain aloof, could always feel his blood boil tightly in his veins whenever _he_ started being a fucking _asshole_.

“At the moment I dare say _neither_ is working,” Colonel Heiss smiled wryly at both irritated men, the gesture deepening into a smirk when they quickly returned to their duties.

War was coming, as sure as dawn each morning, but while he waited, Envy could enjoy this little soap opera that had so conveniently settled right before his eyes. He was the Ultimate Actor after all, and he was nothing if not a lover of drama.

 

* * *

 

“It’s time,” Pride said, looking at him with barely hidden contempt.

Pride never understood him at all, though then again, _no one_ had ever understood him. Envy smiled pleasantly at the thought, which only served to irritate his younger sibling, since he thought – more or less accurately – that he was laughing at him. Pride was a faithful dog, he followed Dante and strived on to please her, to give her everything she could want and even that which she really didn’t want as well. He existed to obey her, and in his tiny, obscured vision of the world, a being like Envy, capricious and whimsical, had no real place to be. He often wondered why his older sibling was allowed such freedom, why he never bothered with ostentous displays of obedience and loyalty.

Why the fuck was he the favorite, when it was Pride that slaved away to do all the work.

Envy merely smiled and grinned and laughed, taking the whole world to be there simply to amuse him, either by existing or ceasing to be. The Shape Shifter didn’t have a single trace of the hardworking individual Pride was, nor any devotion to their Master. He seemed to be entangled in her web, not by choice or destiny, simply by convenience and it was irking to see him get praised for it. Couldn’t Dante see what a feeble creature Envy was? How easy it would be for him to betray them, like Greed had done before? Indeed, Envy had punished Greed for his alleged ‘treason’, but Pride had always suspected the annoying little _monster_ had merely talked their Master into getting rid of the bastard he despised.

Envy was the favorite, the one that always got what he wanted and the one that seemed to grow stronger with each year… Pride hated him, but he wasn’t nearly stupid enough to defy him openly.

He found he rather enjoyed existing, and the prospect of being reduced to nothing was not at all appealing.

“Very well,” Envy grinned that grin of his, the one that twisted his face into a macabre show of teeth, “Book me a train ride on Monday then.”

Pride narrowed the eye that could be seen and clenched the one that couldn’t, his lips thinning into a thin stripe of white.

“Master ordered this to be done as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, and ‘ _as quickly as possible_ ’ is her euphemism for ‘ _Monday_ ’,” Envy sneered, “Besides, I’ve still got things to do.” When he noted the outrage bubbling below Pride’s scowl, Envy’s grin turned truly malicious, “Not humans of course, since you’re still head of that department, but just a few things I have to do. If you excuse me, _Mr. Furher_.”

How dared he play down his sacrifices for their cause? How dared he mock what he had taken so long to get? Pride rolled the eye behind the eye patch, but as always with Envy, nothing but queer shadows appeared before him. Of all the creatures in the world, it had to be _that_ bastard, who had managed to become unpredictable enough to fool even the Ultimate Eye.

 

* * *

 

Colonel Heiss arrived secretly into the Ishbalan settlement and hid well until dawn cast light all over the desolated desert. People around him began milling and he entertained himself by selecting a target. It had to be a very good target, one that couldn’t be forgiven or taken as a mistake… one whose life was precious enough to force the peaceful people into the frenzy of war. In the end, he had chosen a child, one of those that followed the leader of their religion around, laughing and playing with the long ropes of beads that hung from the old man’s cloth.

Envy hated guns, didn’t really see the purpose in them when it was all the more fun to simply rip people apart with his own hands. He enjoyed the thrill of the kill, but he also knew this had to be done carefully, or the plan would fail and Dante would become a terribly annoying individual from then onwards.

When he shot the boy, blue uniform in plain sight of a hundred stunned witnesses, Envy was grinning.

When he allowed himself to be ‘killed’ by the enraged Ishbalans, in front of a thousand men under his command, Envy was laughing.

The hardest part was to stay put while they went around treating his ‘corpse’ and the rather annoying fact he had to stop his own body from healing itself, so they would not realize it was all a rouse. Once he had been buried and mourned, though, he crawled up from his grave, making sure the whole place looked desecrated enough to cause another stab of anger in the military, changed into a bird and flew back to Central.

He was itching to know how his ‘boys’ would take on the news of his _death_.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t exactly what he’d hoped for, because in the end he hadn’t been able to extract all human emotions from them. If he had, Archer would have jumped at the chance to replace him and Kimblee wouldn’t act like an abandoned dog. They would be strong and powerful, they would make him proud, somehow, to know that he forged their madness in _that_ way and showed them they road to hell.

If Envy’s work had been entirely successful, they wouldn’t have kissed in front of an empty grave. For some reason, the Shape Shifter felt vaguely insulted, too, but it didn’t really matter.

Kimblee would be dispatched along the rest of the Alchemists, and then they would make their country proud by destroying the helpless little Ishbalans, who’s Goddess wouldn’t listen to their cries. Kimblee had turned out to be not good enough, though, and the stone would have to be forged by someone else, an Ishbalan. It didn’t matter, though. Nothing did.

Archer took over Heiss’ department, staying back against his wishes – the poor sod had _always_ wanted to be a hero, but it seemed Kimblee would get the glory he wanted – and dealing with the bureaucratic side of things. He was controlling himself quite admirably, Envy thought with a sneer, considering he knew the newly promoted Lt. Colonel to be _itching_ for a fight. But that didn’t matter either.

_Shame they got separated,_ Envy remarked to himself, hanging from a tree branch outside the office and watching the procedures unnoticed by the enraged, mourning soldiers, _they would have made an awesome team of killers… could have been useful_. But things were as they were, and there wasn’t much point in wondering about what-if’s and could-have-been’s, not when Envy had yet again proven his worth as the best in what he did. After all, it might have taken Pride _years_ to build up the military, but it only took Envy half a day to turn the entire nation into an outraged war-machine.

“Envy?” The Shape Shifter looked up to find Gluttony perched on the ceiling. “Master says she wants to talk to you.”

It only took a quiet leap and a rustle of leaves before Envy was standing next to his younger sibling; below them, Archer thought he had seen a flash of white and black move, but there was nothing when he turned to look.

“Say, Glu,” Envy hooked an arm almost affectionately around the Sin’s shoulders as they took a moment to watch the city from their perch, “Have you ever been to the desert?"


	5. Penitence

* * *

**Invidia: Penitence.**

_“The passion of hatred is so long lived and so obstinate a malady that the surest sign of death in a sick person is their desire for reconciliation.”_

* * *

It was unusual, and it rubbed Ed the wrong way, but he _was_ the Führer, and he couldn’t outright defy him. As he and Al walked back to Izumi’s home, he mulled over the facts, thoughtful.

“Al?” He paused, as the house appeared in the distance, “I have a plan. Or the start of one.”

“Brother, the Führer said-“

“That everything was under control, yes, yes,” Ed smirked, “But he never said anything about not being able to check out the forest.”

“Ed, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” The empty voice sounded mildly scolding, Al _seemed_ to frown, “Teacher said-“

“That’s the thing,” Ed had the decency to look sheepish, “I need you to tell teacher we have to leave very quickly, but that we’ll come back soon.”

“She’s going to flip,” Al shivered slightly, the metal rattling as he did so, “Really, really badly.”

“Yes, but this whole thing is not right,” Ed looked at his brother almost pleadingly, “Trust me on this one, Al, I have a feeling this is important.”

“Alright,” The younger Elric sighed, “But if she dents me, you’re going to fix me.”

“Sure thing,” Patting a metal arm, Ed smiled, “I’ll see you at the station.”

The large suit of armor watched as his brother scurried away and sighed loudly. He just hoped Ed knew what he was doing, because if not… Al shuddered, he really didn’t want to go make Teacher angry for nothing.

* * *

“Did you find him?”

Envy’s eyes were unreadable as Wrath’s call reached him, and he noticed with a faint sense of satisfaction that the golden eyes widened pathetically.

“Nah,” The green haired Homunculus smirked, “Just some burnt wood and stuff,” Standing and turning to look at the younger inhuman, Envy shrugged, “The pipsqueak’s gone.”

Ed let out a breath he wasn’t aware he had been holding, his mind already stumbling upon itself to explain the curious occurrence. Envy wasn’t going to let Wrath kill him? Was he going to kill him himself? What was the Homunculus planning? What did he want? He cursed his carelessness for getting trapped and walking into his enemies’ clutches, though said enemies weren’t particularly inclined to use that to their advantage.

“You’re _useless_ ,” The new voice was acrid, and despite his efforts to hide it, Envy flinched.

“He’s small!” He countered reluctantly, “The stupid little shit scrambled away before we could catch him!”

“That’s not true!” Wrath wailed, stomping his foot to prove his point, “He’s just stupid! He let him get away! The kid slipped right through his fingers and he let him go!” Ed was biting his lips hard to keep himself from retorting something, slightly taken aback by Wrath’s words.

“You keep out of this!” Purple eyes narrowed into slits as Envy finally snapped, snarling.

Wrath wailed and ran away, disappearing through the woods. Neither Dante nor Envy seemed to care.

“As it is,” And then Ed could see the woman, approaching at a slow pace, face coldly calm, “You have failed me enough times already, _my dear_ ,” Envy tensed again, fists clenched tightly as he looked at anywhere but her eyes, “ _Elric_ ,” Envy flinched again, “Is the key to the stone,” Her eyes, icy and dark, rooted the shape shifter on the spot, as a butterfly under a pin, “He always is.”

“Yeah, well,” Envy shrugged, voice gruff, “We can always get him back in Central. Everyone knows his little brother is his biggest weakness. We get the brat, dent him a bit, and then you have your pretty little shit to do the stone for you. Big fucking deal.”

Ed felt nails digging into his left palm, through the dirty glove and straight into skin, tearing it and bringing out blood as his eyes narrowed into slits. Envy was pointedly ignoring the mountain of debris to his side, polishing his best acting skills as he gave a careless shrug.

“That’s not the point,” Dante’s voice was soft, mockery of maternal love peeking behind her tone as one of her eyebrows arched at the green haired teen, “Wrath is right, you have gotten lax, _my dear_ ,” Envy held himself stoic, dark eyes narrowed. Golden and purple eyes widened, ironically at the same time, as elderly hands clasped together, “And I… well, I have no use for lax things, do I?”

Releasing the dark blue bolt of energy against the elder Sin, Dante watched without remorse as Envy was flung backwards, slamming against a tall tree with a dry ‘thud’. Smirking, the old woman walked towards the fallen Homunculus, her face showing an unnerving amount of cruelty.

“Sloth?” The painful tug was unexpected and disturbing in Ed’s heart, and he gasped soundlessly, biting his lips again, _Please… not **her** …_ “Seal, but do not harm him. I will deal with him at a later date,” She looked down disdainfully at Envy, “I have no wish to waste more time on this… _nonsense_.”

From his hiding place under the fallen trees, Ed watched with a morbid fascination as the familiar Sin sealed Envy against the trunk of an oak, placing a shard of bone on his forehead, before collapsing the ground around him into a deep hole. He thought it was strange that the green haired Homunculus hadn’t struggled or cursed or said something while she sealed him, he remained silent, watching as the other worked with an alien glint in his eyes. Then, after making sure everything was in order, the woman, Dante, left with an air of carelessness, Sloth on her heels.

Ed fell against the stone behind him, releasing the tension of the moment, now that he was sure everyone was gone.

And then he laughed until he cried.

* * *

“Lust was right,” Envy breathed as he fell slack onto Ed, shivering, “You’re so goddamn stupid, you will actually succeed.”

“What do you want?” The Fullmetal’s voice was eerie calm, his eyes gazing down at the exhausted Sin he had just dug out of earth itself.

He was trembling and exhausted. His body was trying hard to change appereance already, the hair spiking and skin going shallow already. Ed was mesmerized by the apparition, the soft blonde hair, the rosy skin, unnaturally pale, but darker, a strange shade that was painfully familiar. The soulless eyes that stared up at him were purple, though, and that was enough to remind him who he was dealing with. Was this eerily familiar figure the Homunculus’ true form? Ed licked his lips nervously, the small piece of bone that had kept Envy in place had crumbled away to nothing when he removed it, and he wasn’t exactly sure what to expect.

“I want revenge,” Envy stumbled back against the rock wall, pupils slitting into thin lines, “And I want redemption.”

“Revenge? Redemption?” Ed asked mockingly, golden eyes glinting with something dangerous, “You have no soul, Envy, how do you expect to achieve either?” He sneered, “Or are you actually telling me you’ll become human? Is that what you want?”

“No,” The smirk was rather sinister, Ed decided, as Envy’s eyes twinkled with murder, “I want Dante’s death… and my own,” The blonde stared at him, taken aback by the vehemence in the Sin’s voice. Envy grinned slowly, it was a different grin from the usual: dark, ill-humored, “I’ll give you the stone if you do.”

Ed pulled back, scorched by the words, eyes widening despite himself. He remembered the forcefulness and the beating he had taken at the hands of Envy back at the fifth laboratory. The maniac grin, the glinting knowledge of Ed’s weakness… the _price_ of the stone.

“I will not make a stone,” The blonde gathered his wits, standing as tall as he could, back stiff as he glared, “I’m not going to kill innocents for you.”

“And if I told you…” Envy’s eyes were half lidded as he rested his weight against a chunk of bark, voice soft, too soft, “If I told you I knew of another way… if you knew you were not taking innocent’s lives, if you could keep your goddamn human guilt away… if I showed you how?”

Silence stretched for a long moment, the tension so high it left a bitter aftertaste in their mouths.

“What do I have to do?”

Envy grinned and Ed knew he had just sold his soul all over again.

* * *

When Ed had met him at the station, he was pale and limping, and he was carrying something in his arms. By the way Ed was holding it in such a tight grip, it looked as if were something very valuable… or very dangerous.

In retrospect, Al now understood it was both. The small cat Ed had been carrying turned out to be Envy. The Homunculus looked tired, though he tried to hide it, and his attitude was snide and insulting. But after a little discussion – in which Ed’s arm turned into a blade no less than four times and Envy morphed into Al’s human self and their mother at least twice – they had decided, reluctantly, that the Homunculus had a very good point.

“I don’t give a rat ass about what do you do with the stone,” Envy informed them with a snarl, “All I want is to stop _her_ from getting it.”

“We’ll make a deal, then,” Ed said finally, managing to keep his nerves in line, to stop the sudden need to _stab_ the smirking bastard in the face, “It’s a simple thing, Envy, equivalent exchange.”

“What do you want?” The Sin narrowed his eyes, defensive and offensive at the same time, looking imposing.

“You’ll help us fight Dante…” Ed raised a hand to stop the Homunculus from interrupting, “And you will not kill humans while we’re at it.”

“ _What?_ ” Purple eyes glowed as Envy snarled.

“Take it or leave it, bastard,” The Fullmetal Alchemist snorted, his automail hand twitching, “I wouldn’t mind scoring a hit or two on you.”

“What’s in for me, shrimp? I don’t fucking do charity work.”

“We’ll carry through,” The older Elric said with a sharp nod, his left eyebrow twitching at the comment, “We’ll make sure Dante will not get the stone, and then,” Golden eyes shifted to the suit of armor, who was listening intently. Ed swallowed hard, “Then I’ll do what I promised.”

Al wanted to ask, wanted to know so badly what his brother had offered, but something told him it was not the right time to ask. Instead, he watched the handshake, tight and painful, and wondered if it was wise to make a deal with the devil.

The rest of the train ride was eerily silent.

* * *

Edward walked into the office quietly, eyes strangely distant and shoulders tense as he moved towards Mustang’s private office. Al followed him as usual, though he too seemed even more silent than usual, even his armor seemed to be muted. Havoc and Fuery shared a look of curiosity, while Breda and Falman suddenly found the reports they were reading to be of utmost interest. Mustang himself looked up from his desk at the sudden tension in the air, that settled in the office as Ed stood before him, all serious calm that preluded a hurricane.

“What do you want, Fullmetal?” Arching an eyebrow, the dark haired Colonel smirked, “Your debriefing is scheduled for tomorrow morning, yet… are you so eager to see me again you just had to come in the _shortest_ time possible?”

Havoc flinched at the comment, expecting as everyone else the explosion that was soon to follow, while Brenda gave up and hid behind his desk. Neither of the Elrics moved.

“Call in Hawkeye, Colonel,” Ed said softly, too softly, “And tell her to close the door.”

Taken aback by the quiet request, the Colonel did as told, watching the brothers expectantly as Hawkeye locked the door behind her. Ed looked at Al, who was standing behind him, eerily in silence, and smirked. It was a grimace, more than a smirk, really, and both adults tensed as ‘Alphonse’ glowed. Reshaping back into a crouched figure in the floor, with long green hair and black clothing. Envy stood up slowly, eyes closed as he breathed deeply. When he opened them, he fixed them directly on Ed’s golden ones, his lips twisting into a similar smirk.

“What’s the meaning of this!” Standing abruptly, Mustang glared at the Homunculus, while Hawkeye felt her hand fly over her gun. Ed sighed, looking back at him with an almost pitiful expression, “Fullmetal!”

“What is it always about, Mustang?” The blonde grimaced, “Equivalent exchange. Should I introduce you properly? Envy, the Bastard Colonel, Colonel? Envy.”

The Flame Alchemist stared at the abomination before him, unsure of what to do that wouldn’t result in murder. Ed looked strangely subdued, but not drugged… Equivalent exchange? Had he been blackmailed? Hawkeye met his eyes from the door, awaiting his lead on the subject before taking action. Roy licked his dry lips as his mind rushed over to tie loose strings. This was, very obviously a Homunculus, a shape-shifter at that, and one that had managed to get something on the Fullmetal. Random facts rushed around his mind as he tried to figure it out when one stuck out like a sore thumb. _Murdered. Bloodied knives. Two different women. Struggle. Truth. Knowledge._

“You killed Maes Hughes,” The Colonel said after a moment, fists tightening at his sides, “Didn’t you?”

“Hughes…” There was a pause as the purple eyes turned glassy, as if remembering something distant. Roy felt his jaw clench shut as Ed swallowed hard, “Yes, yes, I remember him. I killed him,” Envy smirked then; it was not a pleasant expression, “And a hundred more before him…” His eyes darkened, “But that’s not important now,” Mustang’s eyes narrowed dangerously, “No… the only lives I want now, are those I cannot take.”

“How dare you, Edward Elric,” The cutting glare of the dark eyes fixed on the younger Alchemist, “To bring this monster here? To _me_?”

“I dare because I agree,” The blonde’s voice broke ever so slightly at the edges, but his eyes remained fixed on Mustang, “I agree that neither Hughes’ death… nor anyone’s… not even my mother’s is more important than this.”

“What is this, then?” Hawkeye asked before the Colonel had a chance to explode, “What could possibly be more important than your mother, Edward? Where’s Alphonse?”

“My brother’s at the dorms, keeping watch… And preventing a sick twisted hag from blowing up Amestris seems more important now, doesn’t it?” The Fullmetal looked straight into Mustang’s eyes, challengingly, “And preventing her from creating a new stone, from sacrificing innocents for her schemes, from killing Al and you and everyone I might have remotely cared about in my life,” He leveled Mustang with a glare, one that spoke of judging, “Preventing the Ishbal Massacre from happening again.”

The Colonel’s hands fisted, as his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“He’s loyal and shit,” Envy replied mockingly, breaking the sudden, tense silence as he shrugged, but Ed paid him no mind, “But all I want is to kill the bitch,” Inhuman purple eyes met Roy’s, pupils slitted, “Kill me after she’s gone, _Colonel_ , but I won’t let you until she’s dead.”

Hawkeye blinked, noticing a decidedly Ed-tendency in the Colonel as he bowed his head, trying to hide his face behind his bangs. He grimaced and silence stretched for a long moment.

“No one,” There was a glint of warning in the cold dark eyes, “Will ever know of this conversation. As _everyone_ knows by the report Edward will hand in next weekend, the Homunculus was destroyed. Permanently. Edward will continue his search for the stone, Lieutenant Hawkeye will continue to torture this office into order, Envy will continue to rot at wherever his kind go after death and I…” He smiled thinly at them, “I will continue to try and get said Lieutenant into a skirt. Am I clear?”

* * *

Al watched Ed sleep, but for the first time in a long time, he was not the only one. With a mental sigh, he moved as silently as he could to the window. Another glance proved that his older brother was still asleep and with little effort, Al opened the window, letting the night chill into the room. Ed muttered something under his breath and curled tightly under the covers, but nothing else. Looking back outside, Al took a step back. Seeing the creature was still unsure, he retreated back to his bed, wincing a bit as the springs protested. After a moment, a raven flew into the window, standing wearily on the edge.

“It’s quite alright,” Came the soft whisper from within the empty armor, “There’re some muffins in that bag, I hid them from Ed for later…” He sent a mental smile at the bewildered bird, “But I figure you could use food more than me.”

The bird looked at him for a long moment, then dug into the brown paper bag half hidden under the desk, tearing the chocolate flavored bread with startling ease.

Al smiled.

“Isn’t it uncomfortable?” The youngest Elric asked curiously as the bird finished one of the chocolate treats. Small black eyes fixed on him, “To be a bird, I mean,” Al made the smallest of movements with his metal shoulders, causing a small rattling sound. A shrug, “You could, you know… sit down like a human and eat. It’s safe,” He added with what a certain light hearted tone in his ghostly voice, “No one knows you’re here.”

There was a muted glow and a shift in reality as Envy curled atop the desk, crouching as inhuman purple eyes met Al’s.

“I need you to stop my master,” Envy said lowly, a murderous glint in his gaze, “Fucking make her suffer the agony she made us go through. I need you to be your pathetically stupid selves and stop her silly ploy for world domination,” He snarled softly, still aware Edward as asleep and not really in the mood for a confrontation with the brat, “I didn’t ask you to pity me because I don’t need your fucking shit of friendship, clouds and rainbows. Get this, we’re together in this because we want essentially the same things, not because I’ve decided to stop being myself.”

“I see…” Al made that quiet rattle of shoulders again, and Envy felt himself twitch at the sight, “But if you don’t eat… you’ll get sick.”

“Homunculi don’t get sick!” The Sin hissed back acidly, “Only stupid human shitbags do!”

Why wasn’t the kid yelling? Why wasn’t he starting a fight? He was an Elric too, wasn’t he? He was supposed to be a firecracker, like the rest of them! Envy lowered his head some more, as a panther that prepares to attack, waiting for the reply to his attitude. They always reacted, in the end, humans were too hypocritical to ignore him, even if they preached politeness and good manners.

“But you do need to eat,” Al said calmly, with the same even tone of voice he used with Ed when he was being particularly stubborn, “And, if you really need to see it like that, if you don’t eat and get sick, well, you won’t be of much help to us, right?”

The Sin bristled angrily at the comment, but said nothing more, instead tearing a large bite off a muffin and curling back against the wall in what in any other being would have been a sulk. But of course, Envy didn’t sulk.

“Envy?” Inhuman eyes glinted in the dim light, staring at the polite inquiry _– doesn’t he get tired of being polite all the fucking time? –_ the Homunculus paused in his meal to grunt in acknowledge of the boy, armor, whatever, “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

“Do you want to _die_?” Came the testy reply, as he swallowed the last chunk of chocolate.

“Oh,” Al stared at the flash of light and then watched with certain amusement as the raven flew out of the room with ease, “Good night.”

And then grinned as Ed snorted in his sleep and kicked the covers off with a grunt.

* * *

The door closed softly and after a second the lock clicked. The dark haired Alchemist didn’t look up from his work, writing at a furious pace as the blonde officer walked slowly to his desk. The pen stilled as silence fell upon them for a long moment. Riza Hawkeye had been at his side for years and prided herself in knowing him inside out. She knew the meaning of every little gesture he made when he talked to people, tilting his chin and arching an eyebrow, twisting his lips or crossing his arms. Thus, she knew the meaning of the hunched back, the tired circles around his eyes, his frantic need to do _something_.

“He hated it when you did this,” Her voice was soft, softer than others would ever hear, the ting of professionalism leaving her, until a small smile settled on her features as she added, “Sir.”

Roy Mustang was a man mourning loss. He was a man who had lost much during the war, the stupid struggle that kept cropping up lives at a pointless rate. He had lost one of his pillars of strength and he hated himself for knowing he would need the aid of the one who had stolen it.

“He also hated the thought of his daughter and his wife alone,” The Colonel replied in a clipped tone, knuckles white under his gloves.

They engaged into a silent glaring contest, Mustang burning with a fury too big for words, Hawkeye patiently giving him a resigned look. Roy hated that look, and she knew it.

“I’m not going to forgive him,” Roy said, softly, fingers clenching tightly around the pen in his hand, “I’m not going to pretend he didn’t kill him, that he didn’t _enjoy_ it.”

Hawkeye was silent for a long moment, watching him measurably, then nodded, almost absently.

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” She gave him an empty smirk as she turned to the door, “That’d be too human of you.”

And before he could reply properly, she was gone.

* * *

It was something that ticked Ed off. The feeling in the pit of his stomach, an unease that gripped its cold and clawed fingers around his spine. He. Was. There. _Always._ Like a shadow that fell upon them. He couldn’t really say _where_ , but the fact remained he was around. Watching them attentively as they went along with their lives, following like a bothersome pest that you couldn’t chase off because you didn’t even know if it was there or not. In the library, while he was poring out on an ancient tome, he could feel the flicker of eyes observing him, judging. When he walked on the streets, there was the feeling someone followed, matched his steps perfectly and made himself invisible in the crowd. But it was at meals, when they sat in an awkward silence in their dorm room, when Ed’s nerves were grounded to nothing.

It was aggravating to have nothing to hate in the Sin beyond his presence. He wasn’t polite, but he wasn’t being rude either. He was mute. Someone had gone and pressed a button and all Envy did was sit there, with them, poking a bit at the food Al brought them and eating very slowly. He looked… well, bored. Empty somehow. And Ed was irked to realize he didn’t like it. It irked him more to realize he had no way to change it, since… well, he had no idea what Envy was in truth, beyond a word. ‘Homunculus’. It was a pretty word, it rolled off his tongue with a startling ease and made decisions easier… it also carried a heavy amount of heartbreak.

But beyond the obvious, that he wasn’t human and he was a failed attempt at resurrection, much of the Homunculus was unclear. Such as that blond apparition that had been buried and held in place with a sliver of bone, that had shrugged off his own body as fast as he could, going back into the infernal green haired, purple eyed monster that usually kept him on his toes. Why did Envy act like that? What had Dante done, that it made him, for lack of better wording, _afraid_? And who was Dante, anyway? The old hag he had seen sealing Envy away had displayed a frightening amount of Alchemic power, but to instigate utter obedience from the so called immortals?

“What are you doing now?” He asked as the plate of Xianese food was settled in front of him. Envy blinked, startled, then smirked.

“Right now? Trying to eat,” Ed hated the bastard, for being a smartass and for not embarrassing himself with the chopsticks, “Something I see, you’re failing horribly at.”

Al sighed inwardly as his brother’s face heated up and Envy grinned cockily. The Sin had grudgingly accepted to stay at night with them, rather than prowling around the city doing god knew what. He even talked to Al sometimes, when he wasn’t terribly annoyed with something, and it was the closest to pleasant he could get. At least it was an improvement on their situation, even though he didn’t sleep much and ate even less, but all of the youngest Elric’s concerns had been shunned away with a gruff _‘It’s a Homunculus thing’_ and he left it at that.

“I mean,” And Al had to admit Ed was making a real effort to tame his temper, “While we’re gone, what do you do?”

“Oh, but aren’t you _cute_ ,” The Sin cackled as he sneered down at the blonde, “All worried about pretty old me, now?”

“Answer. The. _Damn._ Question.”

“Fine,” Envy seemed to measure out the situation and didn’t deem it worthy of a full confrontation. Especially, not when they were in the dorms and almost anyone could walk in on them, “I check the city, make sure Dante and the others are not around. Kill time.”

Ed nodded, then grimaced as the slip of fish and rice slipped from his chopsticks and plopped down into his bowl with a horrible sound. Envy snickered as he ate his own share of food with ease. _How long has it been?_ He mused inwardly, _A hundred? Perhaps a hundred and fifty? Xi Tze must be dead by now… but the children… the children must be still alive. A crippled lot of old bones, but alive nonetheless._

“…How much do you know about Alchemy?” Ed said softly, breaking the train of thought and old memories the Sin was sinking in.

And for the first time in a few centuries, Envy allowed his grip on his chopsticks to loosen enough, that the next _‘plop’_ came from his own bowl.

* * *

“You’re alone sir, why?”

Envy looked down from his brooding at the small girl that watched him through large, awed eyes. Her silly dark blond hair was pulled up into two pigtails and her black dress was strangely misfitting of her. The Homunculus snorted.

“Because, now go bother someone else,” Came the gruff reply from among the branches in the tree.

The girl frowned, looking ridiculously funny as she did so, and managed to drag a smirk out of the irritated Sin. Then, without warning, she set to climb up the old oak, in itself a rather difficult feat while wearing a skirt. Envy watched her struggle with the wood, scraping her hands against it as she fought hard to reach him. Twenty minutes, two long tears on the skirt and a few dozen scratches later, the sweaty girl balanced precariously on the same branch as Envy, watching him through wide eyes, her breathing ragged.

“You…” Her voice was breathy and her cheeks were flushed and Envy found her, for lack of better wording, cute, “Now you’re not alone!”

“What the-“

Elysia hugged him. The Homunculus froze as the tiny arms wrapped around him, tightly, and the annoying child buried her face into his chest, nuzzling softly. Envy found he couldn’t move, couldn’t breath actually. _She’s… they never… Why would…_ Staring down at the girl, he watched her a sort of enraptured fascination.

_“You’re so cold all the time, my, I’d say you’re a corpse if you weren’t so lively!” The dark haired man winked at him, playfully, and before he could answer, he was being hugged tightly. Safe._

Lust would kill her. Crack up her knuckles and kill her, no questions asked… but Lust was gone now.

_“Vy, Vy, Vy…” Came a soft voice from under the large oak in the garden, “You are so terribly bad at this. Emotional trauma much?” The old woman laughed, amused at his distress and that distressed him more… until she pulled him against her and petted his back while pretending not to notice the tears._

Sloth would stare at her impassively, because… well, that was _all_ Sloth did. Ever.

_“Oh, you are back! Here, here, I made your favorite!” The chocolate scent was almost as sweet as the feeling of slender arms wrapping around him, and he allowed himself a small smile as the woman cooed at him. He was home._

Gluttony would have eaten her, of course, as he did to everything that ever came close to him.

_“You are helpless. Absolutely helpless,” The old crone smirked at him, smudging the ink of his scrolls and smirking when he snarled. But she hugged him to calm him down, and he hated it because it worked._

Wrath would probably enjoy the feeling for a while, then turn and disembowel her, because that seemed to be all he could do on his own, instinctual bloodlust after all.

 _“What do you need the stone for?” She demanded, black eyes blazing, “It is but a chunk of crystal that only causes fear and pain. It is not worth it, nothing is ever worth it,” And in the smoldering dark eyes, he understood, he understood, so when he was being embraced, he didn’t say a thing._ _He didn’t need to._

Greed… Greed, that fucking self centered bastard… he would do what one with no dignity would, as usual. And besides, he would be gone soon, gone to somewhere he would never come back from.

_“I wish… I don’t know. I don’t know what I want, is that bad? I think it’s what makes me human,” She was a pretty girl, small and lovely. And she curled against him, asking questions that had no answers. He hugged her first, and felt strangely better as he did._

Pride was the ultimate sinner, the one that would always remain alone. Homulunculi were shunned away and abandoned, but only Pride would seek solitude, only he would abandon his own for his gain. He would abandon the girl as he would abandon everything else, because he could.

 _“You are who you wish to be. If you wish to be your Father, then you will be… but I would much rather you to become yourself,” The ancient creature lowered its majestic head next to him, nuzzling his chest and almost throwing him back. And in that instant, that heartbeat, he_ understood _._

But Envy was not Lust or Sloth or Gluttony or Wrath or Greed or Pride. He was not Dante. He was not his father. He was not those stupid people who had dared to touch him before, who had given him time, who had given him words. He was himself, and he realized with an amused smirk, that a child understood him better than he did himself.

Elysia Hughes felt a rush of warmth as she was hugged back, and settled comfortably against her new best friend.

* * *

“O-okay.”

Ed sat on bed, staring at the upside down hanging Homunculus that was perched from the closet rack. Envy looked up at him and shrugged. Closing the book with one hand, he stretched the other to touch the floor and untangled himself from the small closet with startling ease, much to the amusement of the older Elric. Al snickered slightly as he shrugged. He had found Envy’s reading habits strange, but given the Sin’s tendency to crouch or perch on things, rather than to sit, they really should have expected it.

It didn’t mean it wasn’t a disturbing image to wake up to.

“This shit is boring,” Envy said with a wide yawn, cracking the bones of his back loudly enough to make the brothers wince, “Find something by Melquiades, that bastard actually knew what he was talking about.”

“Mel-what?” Ed furrowed his brow, trying to remember any stray facts about that name, “That’s Ishbalan, right?”

“Yeah,” Envy threw the book into the pile on the desk, then perched on it, resting his chin on his bent knees, “I think… yeah, the big idiot got killed around… 1750.”

The brothers gaped at him.

“1750?” Al’s glowing eyes got ridiculously large, which made Envy arch an eyebrow curiously, “But… even if we found notes about him, who could read that? Ishbalan people talked an odd dialect by then, to translate it all…” He lost himself into his own personal monologue, musing about the possibility of coming across notes from the ancient man.

Ed muttered something insulting under his breath as he got out of bed and started dressing himself. It was… awe inspiring, really, the quantity of Alchemy information the Sin had at his disposal. He knew names and dates and places that they had never heard about before. Stories and theories that never quite made it into official books and had a knack for making connections that weren’t really logical at first sight. Ed was willing to swallow a bit of pride and admit it, Envy was a fucking genius. That, however, made him shiver and be thankful that it wasn’t him who got the chance to use Alchemy, because there wouldn’t be much of Almestris left if that had been the case. He wanted to ask, because curiosity always got the best of him, if Envy knew how to chalk arrays, but hadn’t really found any reason to ask that wouldn’t get him into a fight with the Sin.

And for his own sanity, he had been trying to avoid confrontation. Trying being the key word in question. They fought, a lot actually, but they managed to keep to verbal encounters, rather than to degenerate into physical violence. Al was grateful for small miracles. They still didn’t know what Envy did during daylight hours, but the stalking feeling in the pit of Ed’s stomach had dropped considerably, and he was thankful for that.

“He got killed or you offed him?” Ed asked nastily, golden eyes narrowed.

“Any _idiot_ knows that you do _not_ mix nitric acids with alkaline solutions. Especially not those that are at the ends of the spectrum,” Envy informed the Fullmetal Alchemist with a roll of his eyes, “For your information, Melquiades offed himself quite majestically by leaving a six meter crater in his wake,” He paused for a second, “Fucker… he owed me dinner too.”

* * *

Elysia blinked when she reached the usual branch in the oak tree. Balancing there for a long moment, a look of puzzlement fell into her face as she turned around, trying to find the elusive and strange but rather nice boy she liked to play with. Well, not so much as play as listen to. He told pretty stories, even if he used the ‘f’ word a lot. Instead, she found a pretty black bird perched a bit higher than her, and she let out a squeal of delight upon sight. The raven looked down at her in a strangely familiar way, then ruffled its feathers and gently soared down to where she was. The girl looked positively ecstatic. The bird let her coo at him for a while, before cawing loudly and jumping back on the branch, away from where she could reach him. There was a familiar glow, and Envy was suddenly there, perched precariously in front of a bewildered Elysia.

He found he was strangely used to diving around the tree to keep the girl from killing herself from the fall. Not that he really knew _why_ he didn’t want the girl dead. Probably because she was amusing.

_Probably._

“You’re an Alpinist too!” The girl said excitedly, once she was safely nestled against him and no longer hanging ten feet over the hard ground.

“Er…” The Sin blinked, translated the mispronounced word and shrugged, “Alchemist,” He corrected absently, “And no. Fuck _no_.”

“But you change things,” Elysia tilted her head to the side, “Well, you change you but it’s change… so it’s Almery right?”

“Alchemy,” Envy snorted dryly, “And no, it’s not.”

Elysa physically deflated.

“Oh,” The girl looked down at her hands, sighing, “I wanted you to teach me. The circles and triangles and traspertansion thingies. It’s so pretty.”

It took Envy a moment to be amused at the girl’s definition of The Art, then another moment to snicker at her pathetic attempt at the longer words, until he finally realized what she meant. He stared incredulously down at her.

“Alchemy? You?” He sneered, however lightly, “How old are you, runt?”

“I’ll be five next winter!” Elysia said brightly, eager and content and completely ignorant of the attempted insult. Really, Envy always called her that, so it had become her pet name of sorts.

The sin snorted again.

“Four and wanting to learn Alchemy,” He muttered absently, “This is ridiculous.”

* * *

Colonel Karl Guttenberg shifted nervously as he stood before the Führer himself. He was an ambitious young man, talented. Mixed feelings coursed through him as he waited for the man who owned Amestris to speak. He felt intimidated by the sheer power that seemed to be oozing out of the Führer’s pores, but he also felt proud of himself, because damnit, he had worked hard, and he deserved recognition.

“You strike me as… _ambitious_ , Colonel,” The eyes of the Führer glinted strangely as he said so, “It’s not exactly a flaw, but your drive to be better is truly something unique.”

Karl began sweating. He was so nervous and so focused in the man in front of him, that he never noticed when his secretary slid into the room, her strangely colored eyes almost glowing.

“Tell me, young man,” And the Führer _smiled_ , in a strange way that made Karl wish he could run far, far away, “What do you know of the Fifth Laboratory?”

* * *

Roy looked resentfully at the blonde lounging on his couch. Really, it was all the little shit’s fault. The moral struggle, the guilt; when looking down at it, all the mess he was in was his fault. But even so, the Colonel knew that he was at fault too. He wasn’t the epitome of perfection most of his subordinates thought of him as, really, he _was_ a bastard. But his already complicated life had taken a turn for the worst when the blonde Alchemist had stomped into it.

Because Edward Elric hadn’t walked in… no, he had _stomped_ and made a racket until he acknowledged him and then had made himself comfortable for a long stay.

Like he was doing right then and there, lounging on _his_ couch, breathing _his_ air and then daring to _ignore_ him in favor of a stupid old and winkled parchment.

Roy Mustang seethed.

For his part, Ed was oblivious to the discomfort he was creating in his superior, rather interested in the notes he had managed to sneak out of the library. Damnit, Envy _knew_ his way around obscure books. Better than the idiots who archived them, it would seem, because all the ones he had taken out were of public domain. Ed could hardly believe it. But the notes were _good_ , written in the same disorder as he usually did his, thus much more understandable than any scholar book. Most importantly, they were real. Very, very real, and very detailed.

The door to the office banged open and Ed fell off the couch with a yelp.

“Sir!” Hawkeye stared at him wide eyed, “Scar’s been sighted in the city.”

* * *

Envy arched an eyebrow at the uneven lines and sighed for the umpteenth time in five minutes. He was really, _really_ starting to regret his self made vow to not kill the little girl. She was cute and gave him chocolate, fine, but she was too damn annoying.

“Don’t push it, runt,” He snapped irritably, trying not to mind when she flinched a bit, “It’s fairly simple, but you need to do it _right_. Not almost… right. Perfect even _._ ”

With a pout, Elysia used her foot to erase the lines on the dirt and with her stick, set to retrace them carefully, pink tongue peeking out of her lips.

He had changed his appereance again, once he was forced to leave the secure confinement of his tree, opting instead to look like a small boy, perhaps a year or two older than Elysia herself. She didn’t seem to mind, actually, she said he looked cute. Envy felt the murderous urge rise and fall almost instantly, and told himself it was nothing. It had taken Elysa a good three days to learn to draw the outer circle perfectly, and Envy had the faint suspicion she had gone and redecorated her whole house with them. Explaining the mechanics of things was a bit more difficult, even if she was an eager student.

It was frustrating and therapeutic at the same time, some sort of catharsis for all that knowledge he had cramped into his skull. Formulae, circles, shapes, meanings, chants, elixirs… When he became a Homunculus, and could no longer perform Alchemy, he hadn’t given it up. He had read and memorized every text he could get a hold of, killed time making up theories and arrays in his mind, imagining the rush of power, the ultimate control…

Yes, he had missed Alchemy, and his ability to morph at will had been a cheap replacement for it, but he rarely let anyone know about it.

 _Will is everything,_ that’s what he had been told, a long time ago, before all the rules and regulations had appeared and guilds and the military took control of things. So he taught Elysia as he had been taught himself. Will is everything, but will is also consequence. It was disturbing the ease with which she accepted his words, no doubt, no suspicion. If he said it, then it had to be true. Envy understood power when he faced it, knew how to use it and abuse it… but he also knew he was not human. He knew what abuse of power meant, first hand, and he really didn’t feel as low as to do it.

Humans always forced their will into things. That was the heart of Alchemy. That was why Homunculus normally couldn’t do Alchemy. They willed, but they couldn’t really change the world around them.

Envy grimaced.

“Is that good?” The hopeful tone made him want to flinch; instead, he looked over at the rather simple array, running his eyes critically over it.

“Yeah,” Elysia shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other. Envy cleared his throat again, “Pretty good, runt. Now tell me what it says.”

“Um…” The girl knelt down, pointing at the symbols nervously, “It’s… er, water? And that’s air… and that means bring,” She looked shyly up at him, “So it’s a… bring me air and water albeit?”

“Array,” Envy nodded, “It’s a summoning one. Easy. Just a bit of water to wash your hands, for instance.”

“Oh,” Green eyes fixed on the marks for a long moment, “Can I try it now?”

“Not yet,” Envy allowed his small body to plop down unceremoniously and watched with amusement as Elysia did the same, “First you need to know where you’ll get the water from.”

“Nowhere?” The girl tilted her head to the side, frowning in that ridiculous fashion of his, “Almery is magic, no?”

“Alchemy,” The Sin corrected automatically, “And no. It’s… it’s willing things to happen, but there are rules.”

“Rules are boring!” A pout, and Envy flinched inwardly. _That_ was awfully familiar in all the wrong ways.

“Well, yeah. But they’re useful too,” _Rules are meant to be broken, but at the right time. Do you understand that? The key to gaining power comes from your will and the control you have over it._ The Homunculus cleared his throat to ignore his thoughts, “You have to imagine the tiny bits of water that are in the air. All the water there is, floating in very little drops. And then, you have to will them all to come to the array, and imagine them taking shape.”

“Oooh,” Elysia nodded eagerly. No matter what he said, it had to be magic! “But what’s air for?”

 _Smart kid,_ Envy mused as he smirked, _observant too._

“Air is what will keep water floating,” He waved a chubby hand to illustrate his point, “You don’t have a bowl here, do you? So you need to will air to hold water in place,” He arched an eyebrow at her, “If you work hard, you might even learn how to do figures with it.”

“Dragons too?” Elysia squealed at him, “I love dragons, they’re so pretty!”

_My favorite? Dragons of course! Do you think that your father we’ll let us go see them then? When you’re cured?_

“Smart runt,” The Homunculus growled softly, petting her head absently and firmly telling himself he was not growing attached to a human.

_Again._

* * *

Adrenaline pumped their veins as they ran after the Ishbalan. Neither Ed nor Roy doubted they were running right into a trap, but they just couldn’t _let_ him run away. Not after that man… Ed’s jaw tightened. Dodging a new formed crater, he kicked the wall to keep up with the dark skinned man, Roy hot on his heels. They avoided the explosions more or less gracefully and managed to keep up with Scar, though their nerves were fried.

And then they realized they were at a nearby park. A nearby park full of _children_.

Scar smirked at them.

A second later, the shrieks of fear rose in the air, causing shivers to run up and down the Alchemists’ spines as the children scattered around, afraid of the explosions. He wasn’t hurting them, of course, but they were a major distraction that Scar was all too willing to use against them. As Ed and Roy tried to stop the psychopath Ishbalan, the blond Alchemist noted two children that hadn’t run. One was a girl remarkably familiar and the other an older boy with light red hair and green eyes. Both were crouching around a patch of earth, enraptured with their battle. And then the boy growled loudly, glowed and walked decidedly towards them, his shape shifting back into the familiar long limbs of the Homunculus.

Ed had a moment to ponder what exactly was Envy doing in a park with a girl, before the Homunculus gave Scar a nice kick in the back.

“ _You!_ ” Came the enraged howl from the Sin, purple eyes glowing eerily as he snarled at the taller man.

Roy had never seen the Homunculus fighting before, and he felt slightly taken aback by the fierce movements and graceful twist of body as he tried to beat the living daylights out of Scar. The Ishbalan didn’t look particularly happy about the situation, rather surprised at the malevolent attack on himself, but tried to grab the annoying pest and blast it away. Ed didn’t waste time pondering why, he started casting volts of energy and rips of earth against Scar and trying to attack on his own as well. He knew Envy’s fighting style, how difficult it was to score even the slightless hit, and even if Scar did manage to harm him, the Homunculus would heal too fast for it to be important.

Ed grinned, apparently their uneasy truce with Envy would finally give some positive results to get Mustang out of his damned sulking.

There was a rush of fire against the white haired man, which he dodged with certain ease, then a volt of energy that hit him square in the chest and flung him backwards. But when Envy threw a punch at him, Scar managed to grab his hand. There was a pause.

“Uh huh,” The Sin’s eyes widened as the Ishbalan grinned maliciously at him, “ _Shit._ ”

And his left arm exploded into a bloody pulp. Envy shrieked as he fell back, then snarled loudly at his attacker, purple eyes glowing. Before Ed or Roy could do anything though, and just as Scar was leaning forward to grab Envy’s head, there was a loud scream.

“ _No!_ ”

And suddenly there was a torrent of water collapsing against Scar, throwing him far away from them. Ed and Roy turned to look at the young girl that had her small hands pressed tightly against the still glowing array in the dirt. Not knowing where the attack had come from, and thinking it was reinforcement from the military, Scar blew up the floor under him and escaped. Envy blinked.

“Fuck, I _knew_ we should have started with fire runes,” He muttered to himself as he sat back properly, holding his bleeding shoulder in a tight grip.

“Damnit, he’s gone,” Roy called over the dying curtain of smoke that had hidden Scar’s retreat. He risked a glance over at the Homunculus and his stomach did an unpleasant twist.

“You okay?” Ed called tentatively as he risked placing a hand on Envy’s shoulder, “Er…”

“What _the fuck_ do you think?” Came the testy reply, as the Sin glared at him, shrugging his hands off himself. Hissing through his teeth, he closed his eyes and concentrated.

Bits and pieces of himself flew to attach themselves back in, place glowing slightly as they rearranged properly. As the sudden light faded, the green haired teen opened and closed his hand a few times, then stood up and _cracked_ his back. Ed flinched at the familiar and sickening sound. Roy frowned as he turned to the small girl, then he recognized her perfectly. He froze in place… and so did Ed.

“Elysia?” Envy said smoothly, in a velvety voice that promised pain. The girl flinched, “ _What the fuck did you think you were doing!?”_

* * *

Scar rested his weight against the dirty wall of the alley. Breathing shallowly, he held his left side, wincing. Whoever had cast the water number on him had known what they were doing; he was sure he had at least a broken rib or two.

“You’re pathetic,” Came a voice from the entrance of the alley, childish and cruel at the same time, “I don’t know why Dante thinks you’ll be useful.”

Scar turned to face the young boy, tensing as he saw his glowing purple eyes. _Just like hers_ , he thought distractedly, before scowling. The brat walked towards him, smiling mockingly.

“What do you want?” Despite his best efforts, the Ishbalan’s voice was raspy as he spoke, and he tried to cover it by standing tall.

“My… Master wants to see you,” Wrath’s eyes glinted maliciously, “Offer you a deal.”

“I do not deal with those of _your_ kind,” Scar replied dangerously, his right hand clenching slightly.

“Well…” The Homunculus laughed, “Lust would have certainly disagreed.”

* * *

“You taught a four year old Alchemy? Are you _insane_?”

“I was _bored!_ What else was I supposed to do anyway! The fucking runt will follow me _everywhere_ and wouldn’t leave me alone! You’d rather I killed her?”

“It’s almost the same! She could have hurt herself!”

“But she didn’t! And it wasn’t my fault she decided to be stupid instead of running away!”

“If you hadn’t been around her in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened!”

Al petted Elysia’s head gently and quietly told her that ‘ _no, it was not her fault_ ’ and _‘yes, that was how her friend and the blonde mister solved their differences’._ Colonel Mustang wasn’t exactly sure _when_ he had lost control of the situation, but he had been eventually shut out of his own bedroom as the two volatile teens started yelling at each other.

He was thankful they had at least been able to hide Envy from the military reinforcements that had arrived moments after the Homunculus had healed himself. What he was not thankful for, was the fact his apartment had ended up as the battleground for an Edward vs. Envy fight of Apocalyptic proportions. Al brewed him a cup of strong coffee and thanked him again for his patience. Elysia merely asked him how he knew her friend and if he would go visit her some time soon.

Roy clenched his jaw.

How _dared_ he to get close to Elysia? How could that murderer taint the poor girl’s innocence with his mere presence? It made him seethe. More so when he saw the absolute devotion in the wide green eyes of his goddaughter. She _adored_ him, and Roy couldn’t really see why. He was rude, he was loud and he had such an annoying condescending air around him, as if he knew all the answers and their attempts at moving on with their lives bored him.

 _“No!”_ There was a loud crash coming from his bedroom and he stood up briskly at the sound of Ed’s panicked voice.

When he opened the door, though, all he saw was red faced Ed staring horrified at an amused Envy. Who had the fucking _nerve_ to wink at him as he sauntered out of the room, grinning. Roy looked at Ed, wanting an explanation, and frowned when the teen merely blushed harder and muttered an excuse to leave.

Ten minutes later, while the Elric brothers promised to take Elysia home, he was left alone in his department, trying to puzzle out what had happened and wishing more than anything for a nice shot of scotch.

* * *

“I have need of your services, Alchemist,” Kimblee whirled around at the sound of the familiar voice, mocking him, “Oh yes, it’s dear old me…”

Eyes widening, the Crimson Alchemist clapped his hands, ready to make the intruder explode.

“Now, now,” The Shark Man smirked, showing off his dreadful teeth, “No need for that. I don’t want to kill you yet, you understand? Follow along like a good boy, Kimblee, and I might make your death painless.”

Kimblee kept his palms pressed together, back tense.

“Or you could _try_ and piss me off, and then I could rip you apart, limb by limb.”

The monster cracked his knuckles as his hands turned into the frightening claws. Slowly, Kimblee’s hands fell to his sides.

Greed grinned.

* * *

“Why are we going to Rizembul again?”

Ed glared up at Envy, who was perched on the suitcase rail above Al’s head. Ed thought a normal spine had no business twisting like that, but then again, Envy wasn’t exactly normal on any scale. He snorted.

“ _I_ need to get my automail fixed,” Ed growled back, “ _You_ could have stayed back in Central.”

“What, and listen to Mustang whine and bitch about everything? ‘Specially since the runt keeps following me around?” Envy snorted, “Not fucking happening.”

Al sighed and kept on reading his novel, ignoring as the petty bickering continued. At least it killed the usual tediousness of the train trip.

And really, if anything, Envy’s company had proven to be something to chase boredom away. He had rather familiar mood swings and a slightly annoying tendency to make them vocal, which never failed to tick off the elder Elric. However, he knew a good deal of curious facts, on a vast variety of subjects, though he reduced his comments to the select occasions when it would raise a fight with Edward. Al still winced a bit at the unnecessary rudeness and bad words that seemed to spring out in rivers from the Homunculus’ mouth, but at least he had kept himself from violence.

Well, if one didn’t count the boot incident, and Al was in a magnanimous enough mood to ignore it. Because Ed deserved it anyway. _Yeah._

“It was a really good throw, wasn’t it?” Envy asked with that half lidded cat stare of his, sounding too damn pleased with himself.

Al grinned, unseen by anyone, and shrugged, turning a page of his novel.

“Shut up!” Ed tried to hit Envy, but realized too late that he was too… ahem, short, to reach the rail. The Homunculus smirked, “Get down here!”

“Aw,” Envy cooed at him, “Am I too _high_ for you? Maybe I should tune _down_ a bit, eh?”

“ _Who the fuck are you calling so short that he can’t reach the fucking windowsill on his own?”_

Envy smirked, pleased with himself. Al sighed when Isobel discovered Eric’s treason. Ed seethed and muttered about stupid Homunculus who needed to be castrated and backstabbing little brothers who needed to stop reading harlequin novels.

All was well in the world.

* * *

The Elric brothers had arrived with a tabby cat on their heels and before Winry could get a hit home upon seeing the glaringly obvious damage on Ed’s automail, said cat had morphed into a young man with strangely colored green hair and freakish eyes. Pinako had reacted faster than her grand daughter though, and had slammed a large wrench on the spot Envy had been occupying seconds prior.

“You fu-“

“Envy!”

Al slammed a hand on his mouth and held him off the floor, struggling and growling as his eyes promised murder.

“Wait!” Ed raised his hands to placate the old woman, eyes widening. Not so much for what Pinako could do to the Homunculus, but what _he_ could do to _her_ , “It’s alright! Well, not alright, but don’t kill him!”

“ _Ha_!” Having somehow slithered out of Al’s grasp, the Sin snorted, glaring viciously, “As if an old hag could do-“

“What’s that _thing?_ ” Pinako asked wide eyed as Envy was once more dragged back by Al.

“That’s Envy,” Ed started to explain hastily, “He’s er… well, not a friend, Aunt Pinako, but we don’t want him dead yet.”

“I’ll show you dead you little shit!” The green haired teen howled as Al tried desperately to hold him back.

“Envy!” Ed whirled around, glaring, “Stop it!”

“Fuck, tell _her_ that!”

“Well, if you stopped being such a bastard-“

“I’m going to show you bastard alright!”

“Brother!”

Winry and Pinako stared bewildered as the verbal fight escalated, while Al threw miserable comments here and there to try and calm them down with little to no success.

_“What the fuck do you mean **pipsqueak?** ”_

* * *

Winry stared curiously. Envy pretended not to notice. Ed tried to explain to ‘Aunty’ what was going on. Said ‘Aunty’ tried to keep a hold on her patience long enough for him to finish. Al continued reading.

“ _What?_ ” The Homunculus finally reached the very last of his admittedly short patience and snapped with a glare at the blonde girl.

Al placed his bookmark and closed the book, for the moment more interested in Winry’s welfare than in Eva finding out Christian had been having an affair on the sidelines of their marriage, even if he was itching to read how _that_ would play out.

“Well,” To her credit, the Rockbell girl managed to shrug of the glare, slitted eyes and all, and grinned lightly, “Just, wondering,” Envy’s left eyebrow twitched. If he had known the lengths he would need to go to keep the uneasy truce with the Elric brothers, he would have stayed back at Central, corrupting the runt, Mustang be damned. Winry shrugged, “Why are you wearing a skirt?”

Ed paused on his long winded monologue about the greater good – which he was using more to convince himself than Pinako, of course – to look in the direction of the mighty howl of rage that came from Envy.

Who was currently twitching under Al, trying to claw his way to Winry, presumably to gut her.

The blonde mechanic grinned.

* * *

Wrath dodged the deadly hand and laughed. His frequent visits irritated the Ishbalan, and he reacted the only way he could, attacking.

“Aw, and here I was going to give you some interesting news,” The Homunculus said with a smirk, noting with amusement that Scar’s back stiffened, “I found you a nice State Alchemist to kill.”

“I’m not your minion!” The holy man growled angrily, trying to grab him again.

Wrath knew he hated him, hated his visits and his words… but Scar wouldn’t deny the fact that Wrath’s information had been useful. He hadn’t told him anything important, at least not in the big scale of things, but he hadn’t lied to him. The Homunculus grinned. How _predictable_ , the human now believed his words, even if he hated him.

“Does that mean you don’t want to know where to find the Crimson Alchemist? The murderer of Ishbal?” The child-monster asked almost innocently, grinning when the taller man stopped abruptly.

Predictable, but useful.

* * *

Envy was hiding in the forest, not that he would admit he was _hiding_ , but for the sake of his sanity – fragile and elusive little thing – he decided to stay away from the house where the Elric Brothers were staying. Partly because he was feeling an insanely strong bloodlust coursing through his veins, and partly because it was disturbing to have that slip of a blonde following him around as if he were some sort of exotic bug or something.

So, since he couldn’t go kill a few humans – and rather than to humor the truce with the brothers, it was because Dante would _know_ it had been him – he went and did the next best thing. Morphing into a predator, he stalked the forest and hunted to release the excess energy that he had gathered in the last five weeks.

Sure, raw meat wasn’t exactly a delicacy in most places, but the smell of blood and the feel of skin tearing under his claws made up for the lack of fights.

Slumbering in the late afternoon sun, the feline senses flared up at the _stench_ of another. It left a coppery aftertaste on his tongue and ignited the primal need to destroy. It was hatred in it’s purest form, and Envy didn’t fight it as he began a patient walk back to the house.

He might be seething, but he was still in the mindset of a hunter. And hunt his prey was what he would do.

Aside from ripping it into nice ribbons to make garlands from.

* * *

The first explosion took them by surprise. The second, however, caught Al and Ed running outside, expecting to see Scar. The force of the explosions was enough to create miniature earthquakes, the house rumbling to it’s fundament. Winry tried to follow the brothers, but the next tremor made her lose her balance and end up hanging from the doorway.

“Stay inside!” Ed yelled at her, as the smoke cleared slowly, revealing two human shapes. The Fullmetal Alchemist swore under his breath.

“Edward Elric,” Greed purred softly, grinning, “Such a _pleasure_ to see you again…”

Kimblee, behind him, gave them his maniac smile, eyes glinting with murder. The brothers tensed, prepared to the fight as the sin eyed them, for lack of better wording, _hungrily_. A twig snapped behind him, and for a moment they turned to the edge of the forest. Greed’s grin became, if possible, larger.

“Entertain them,” He told Kimblee, almost dismissingly, as he centered his attention on the sleek creature that walked forward, slowly morphing back into human. Greed leered, “So _nice_ of you to come, brat. Saves me the trouble of finding you.”

“You just _have_ to try, don’t you?” Envy sneered, looking at the younger Homunculus disdainfully, “Come and fuck things up.”

“I want it all,” Greed’s eyes glowed behind his sunglasses, “ _All_. And that includes you, lapdog of shit.”

Envy laughed. He couldn’t help it, really, he laughed in amusement at what was so very obviously a death wish and grinned mockingly at Greed.

“Am I supposed to feel threatened?” The green haired Homunculus smirked, “By _you?_ ”

Both immortals ignored the explosions and the lights from Kimblee’s fight with the brothers. The former Crimson Alchemist was barely holding himself back from killing the brothers, knowing they needed them for later. But they didn’t have to know that.

“Always so eager to get me _on_ , Envy,” Greed snorted, “But mommy isn’t around anymore, is she? To tell me to keep my hands to myself?” Envy snarled, eyes flashing dangerously, “Oh, you hate me so much, don’t you? I want that too, all of it,” Greed’s grin turned lascivious, “I even want your violence… why don’t you let me have fun, before the _real_ fun? I know, I’ll even let you fight back!”

His arrogance was doing the trick, the smaller Homunculus looked ready to snap as he fisted his hands. Greed walked towards him at a slowed pace, not caring one bit about the destruction Kimblee was causing. He didn’t care about anything else but that delightful young body before him, just _begging_ to be taken and used and abused. He stopped two feet away from Envy, looked down at him and _leered_.

“C’mon, brat,” He spread his arms, mockingly, “I’ll let you land a hit before I get you.”

And as Greed transmuted his skin, Envy laughed. It was a hysterical sound, annoyance, amusement, bloodlust and _hatred_ , mingling together into the ultimate war cry.

“You _bastard!_ ”

The spin kick landed directly on Greed’s chest, and it sent him flying backwards, until he hit the wall of the Rockbell house. Winry and Pinako huddled far away, led away from the fight by Al, while Ed entertained Kimblee. Envy walked towards the taller Homunculus, still chuckling.

There were cracks on Greed’s skin.

“You’re going to take me? _Me?_ ” The green haired Homunculus landed a vicious punch into the other, furthering the damage to his chest. He began a rhythmic pounding, anger raising. Greed just couldn’t heal fast enough. “I’m the patient one! I sit around and let you be, and what do you do, Greed? You come and. Fucking. Piss. Me. Off.” Each word was punctuated by a hit, the black surface cracking ominously as Envy finally let go, “You pathetic _child_ , do you know who I am? I’m the _first_ , the _only_ one,” Greed choked on a howl as Envy’s fist sank through him. The wall behind him began crumbling under the sheer strength of the beating, “But you’re right, Greed, mommy isn’t around anymore,” Pulling back, Envy smiled sweetly, “And you know what? There’s no one telling me I can’t kill you anymore.”

His fingers sank into the charcoal skin, and his eyes glowed. Red spots appeared in Greed’s body, glowing where the stones were lodged within him. Envy _moaned_ as his own stones reacted, feeling some sort of euphoria course through him. Greed screeched as the red stones literally tore themselves out of his body and sank into Envy’s, feeding him.

Dissolving into a shrieking mess of… _something_ , Greed ceased to exist.

Still light headed from the new power cursing through him, Envy turned to find he had a horrified audience, but his eyes fixed on Kimblee. He snarled dangerously, growling more like an animal than anything else, his fangs – already longer than a normal human’s – seemed to glint with a murderous intent as his hair fell wildly over his brow, making his eyes stand out as they _glowed_ with the thrill of killing something. The Crimson Alchemist decided he didn’t want to stay around and see what else Envy could do. He blew the patch of dirt at his feet and fled in the resulting smoke screen.

Silence fell heavily upon them.

“Alright?” The Sin asked almost pleasantly once he was sure Kimblee was far away. He met Ed’s wide eyes with a smirk when the blond nodded uneasily, “Good.”

And then he fell asleep on the spot.

* * *

“I don’t care!” The man hissed in annoyance, “This is important, I must talk to him!”

The house was small, but it had served his purpose. The family had made a nice set of explosions, music to his ears as he conducted the symphony. His hands itched, but he _needed_ to talk to Bradley. He just had to know what his pet Alchemists were up to.

A large shadow fell on him, but he didn’t notice, his eyes glaring at his hands. A large hand, bigger and much more deadly than his own settled on his head, and Zolf Kimblee looked up in surprise, only to stare in shock at the snarling face in the mirror.

Scar smiled and Kimblee had the chance to listen to the most beautiful explosion ever.

His own.

“Hello?” The voice in the receiver faintly reached the Ishbalan, but he ignored him as he left. The phone was hanging from limp fingers, “Hello! Answer me!”

Blood dripped melodically off the mirror, then, the line died.

* * *

The first thing he saw upon waking were two wide blue eyes staring intently at him. Unbalanced as he tried to pull back, he only succeeded in falling off the couch, much to Winry’s amusement.

“You’re very lucky to have Al on your side, you know,” The blonde informed him as he picked himself off the floor. Envy glared, “Really, he’s the main reason Ed didn’t kill you while you were asleep.”

“Oh he could try,” The Sin snorted humorlessly, “But I doubt he could.”

“Ed’s the best Alchemist the world has seen in decades!” Jumping right in defense of her best friend, Winry scowled, “There’s nothing he can’t do if he wants to!”

“Edward Elric is just a child who hasn’t yet figured out the consequences of his actions. Like the one before him,” Envy added almost as an afterthought as he linked his hands and _stretched_.

The horrible cracking that followed as his spine rearranged itself was immensely satisfying. Particularly because the girl turned a nasty shade of green as well. She shivered slightly, then stood up as well, looking at him as if it were for the first time and sort of… judging. Envy frowned at that, but figured he had ‘passed’ her test, because she smiled slightly at him.

“Come now, before Ed eats everything on the table.”

He could have retorted he didn’t need their stupid human food, but for the sake of nostalgia and a bit of something he couldn’t quite place, he said nothing and followed her downstairs.

* * *

Ed stared at the ceiling for a long moment. All around him was silent, as a pale sliver of a moon, merely a day or two away from disappearing completely, cast pathetic rays through the clouded sky. Finally, he slowly slid out of bed, wincing when his automail clinked against the floor. Moving as silently as he could, he jumped from the window to the backyard, knowing Al would probably be entertaining Envy for the night. Landing a bit shakily, he bit back a low moan at the hit of the chilly air against his skin, but walked with sure steps towards the ruins of what had once been his home. The sad remains made him shiver as he walked over to a forgotten grave.

Ed stopped, frozen in place as he took in the horrific scene.

“It’s starting,” Whirling around, the blonde Alchemist found Envy standing a few meters away from him, dark eyes glinting almost, _almost_ with something akin to regret, “She believes she made us, thus, she believes she can unmake us.”

He didn’t really say who he was talking about, both understood. As Ed followed Envy in a numb stupor, he tried desperately to erase the image from his mind, the disrespect…

Trisha Elric’s tomb had been desecrated.

* * *

Jean Havoc was many things, but stupid was not one of them. He knew something big was cooking around their little office and he knew it was big enough Mustang hadn’t had the balls to come out and tell them. Hawkeye knew, but that was because she knew _everything_ that went on in their little bubble. No, the Colonel was preparing something big, something that involved the Elric brothers of course, but which could have severe repercussions to everyone involved.

He grimaced, chewing at the end of a cigarette. Things had gone strangely quiet as of the late, except for the horrible amount of paperwork that was suddenly dumped on them. It was enough of a prelude for him, though, they were going to war, _serious_ war, this time. Mustang probably knew what was going on, the bastard.

Ever since Hughes had died – _had been **murdered** –_ Roy had been a wreck. Hawkeye barely kept him in one piece, and really, only Ed managed to get a glimpse of the old Colonel from time to time.

Havoc frowned and took the last drag of his smoke, before the bell rang, signaling lunch break was over. Walking away from the railing, he went downstairs, away from his beloved roof, where he could smoke to his heart’s content.

He wondered if he should have signed that _‘life policy’_ that came with their insurance last year.

* * *

“But Lior?” Ed snapped irritably, “There’re better things we could do than to go to Lior! There’s research to be done.”

She had seen the scene several times before. Ed would storm into the office, Al in tow, then holler at Roy until his throat was sore. Roy would smirk and rail up the blonde, succeeding in getting him off track, and then manipulate him into doing exactly what he wanted.

Today, however, there were several changes to the equation, the most prominent one was the lithe figure sprawled comfortably on the couch, staring at the ceiling and not particularly caring about the verbal fight going on around him.

Her keen eyes noticed the details in the Homunculus’ pose, though, the way he was shifting ever so slightly as his name was mentioned, his lips twisted into a minute grimace that you couldn’t see unless you were actively looking for it.

Envy was annoyed.

“The Führer ordered it,” Roy’s voice was thick with annoyance, not so much at the boy in front of him, but at the Sin that was pretending to be ignoring them, “All State Alchemists will be taken there, as well as a selected number of our troops. Not immediately, but soon enough.”

“But _why_?” Ed seemed to be seconds away from tearing his hair off, “What could the old wanker want in Lior of all places?”

“He wants to make a stone.”

All eyes turned to the Homunculus, who had opened his eyes for the moment. He smirked. Hawkeye noticed, as she frowned slightly, that Envy was wearing a particularly mocking expression. He knew. The damn beast _knew_ something they didn’t, and he was _enjoying_ it immensely.

“Don’t you think it’s odd,” The Sin continued his monologue as if he had no audience, “That the great Führer has always instigated the wars that have given birth to the Philosopher’s Stones? Creta, Ishbal… there was always an attempt to create one when he centered his troops somewhere. Don’t you think it’s odd the Military knew about Lab 5, and not only allowed, but encouraged human transmutation and chimera making?”

He smirked lazily at them, watching with delight as the gears practically burnt in their minds. _Oh yes_ , he thought snidely, **_that_** _is exactly what I’m implying._

“I think it’s a bit odd for a human to be so… _inhuman_.”

* * *

“You’re back!”

Envy nearly fell off the tree as he was glomped, _glomped_ , by the little blur of energy. Snarling despite of himself, he managed to catch a few branches that saved them from a rather painful fall off the tree. He took a second to scowl to himself, just _how_ had the little bugger gotten to him without him noticing? Then, he scowled at himself.

Damn, he had forgotten about Elysia.

He sat back and listened half heartedly to the girl’s rants, he had been expecting her to forget about him. Apparently, small miracles were above him.

“-so can I show you? It’s _pretty_!” The girl beamed at him, delighted.

Envy felt something inside him twist the wrong way and a new wave of disgust and self hatred poured over him. It was a deadly mix, of anger _– why can she still smile like that? –_ and disgust _– you don’t deserve anyone smiling at you, especially not like that -_ and resentment _– look at her, her world is still whole, still untouched –_ and such a terrible amount of _pride –_ I _taught her that. Not the brat, not her parents, not Mustang. Me. I put that smile there._

“Maybe later,” He managed after a moment, congratulating himself for not flinching when Elysia pouted, “It’s late, your mother will be looking for you now.”

He watched with mild amusement as she climbed down the tree, then ran towards a lovely woman that was standing with her back to him. Envy felt that something inside twitch again when the woman, very obviously Elysia’s mother, knelt down to hug her.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Envy.”

He snapped his head down and met the hard eyes of the blonde woman he had met in Mustang’s office. Hawkeye, he recalled. With a smirk, he shrugged.

“Who knows, I might get lucky,” The Homunculus gave her a cryptic smirk, “Maybe your pet Colonel will pull through his half of the bargain.”

Hawkeye watched the small bird fly away, nothing out of the extraordinary in the sparrow’s coloring or features to tell it apart from the rest of the ones in the park.

Hawkeye wondered if monsters could feel remorse, then firmly told herself it didn’t matter.

* * *

Roy Mustang had many reasons to hate the rain, the least of them being that it left him practically defenseless. Rain brought back memories, images that were best left buried and ignored.

Rain reminded him of Ishbal. Of the Rockbells. Of his sins.

He was surprised to find he wasn’t the only one soaking to death under the wrath of late afternoon sky. The park was three blocks away from his apartment, and though he usually took a car on his way back home, he hadn’t really felt in the mood. Of course, he hadn’t expected the sudden downpour, but he tried to take it lightly. He froze, however, as he recognized the figures ahead of him. The red coat and the blond hair were unmistakable as Ed curled himself on a bench, resting his chin on his knees. The other figure got the initial knee-jerk reaction though. Envy was standing before Ed, arms crossed over his chest and looking annoyed as he said something Roy couldn’t hear. He could see, though, Ed stiffen considerably at that, then how the blond head turned away, almost… in shame?

There was a crack of thunder, and Envy smirked, glowing eyes raising to meet Roy’s from a distance, _I know you’re there_ , before he turned on his heel and stalked away.

The Colonel suddenly had the sinking feeling he was going to make tough choice right then and there.

* * *

“I can’t even begin to explain how _pathetic_ you are.”

Ed jolted up from his thoughts, looking up at the Homunculus’ familiar figure, and felt his lips twist into a disgusted smirk. Then he snorted. Finally noticing the rain – and only because Envy looked ridiculous, soaking wet as he was – Ed sighed tiredly. He really didn’t want to deal with the Sin.

“What the heck you want?” He asked, tired, drained. Today was not a day to fight. He wanted to curl up and die a little, and he had been doing a nice work of it before the Homunculus arrived.

“Your brother,” And there was the distasteful sneer again, “Wants to know if you’ll grace him with your _honorable_ presence at dinner tonight. Or if you’ll even bother to go home at all.”

“And you give a shit, because?” Ed snarled with a glare, but Envy didn’t seem to care.

“I don’t,” The thin lips twisted into a grimace, “But fucking answer so I can go get out of this stupid rain and get at least some sleep.”

“I’ll be back at the dorms tomorrow morning,” Ed said testily, grinding his teeth in annoyance.

Al was hurting, he should be with Al instead of moping around in a deserted park while soaking himself and risking catching pneumonia. Envy snorted.

“Don’t get yourself killed, pipsqueak,” The Sin said with that damn smirk of his, superior, mocking, “I really don’t want to go find another spineless twit who can replace you,” Ed bristled slightly at that, but noted Envy was looking at him strangely.

He had seen that look before, when the cat had climbed the tree, and it was staring intently at some defenseless bird. Ed shivered.

“It would be such a shame for your bastard of a Colonel too,” Ed sat up straight, eyes wide and incredulous.

 _How did he-_ Ed remembered that stupid kiss in Mustang’s apartment and it hit him like brick. Envy knew. He hadn’t done it because he thought it was funny, but because he had known Ed would react badly. _The fucking bastard!_

“I just hope you’ll kiss the real thing better than you did me,” Envy smirked maliciously, “I hear Mustang is very… demanding of his lovers.”

Ed looked away, embarrassed. There was a crack of thunder, and he jumped startled, but when he looked up, Envy’s figure was already walking away. He sat there, curled on the rain, mourning over the big fucking mess his life was and wondering what exactly was he going to do with it. It was the day he had assigned for mourning, to let loose all the tension that he gathered through the course of a year. Al knew he indulged in it, he also knew why the day was special, but he couldn’t help but worry about him.

“And here I was thinking I was the only one without common sense tonight.”

Ed stood up almost at once, upon hearing and recognizing the voice. He whirled around to find Mustang – ridiculously soaked and blinking owlishly to keep the pouring water out of his eyes – standing a few meters away from him. Ed was too emotionally tired to give a damn.

“Go fuck yourself Mustang,” He shook his head, hair plastered pathetically to his face and sighed as he turned to leave.

“Wait!” Ed tensed when a hand wrapped around his automail arm, holding him in place, “Just… where are you going, anyway?”

“Somewhere I don’t have to see your face, bastard, that’s where,” Ed whirled around and glared openly at Mustang.

In retrospective, that was a tactical mistake since it gave Mustang a chance to _really_ look at him. The Colonel frowned and Ed knew he had just damned himself.

“You don’t have to see my face in the guest room across from mine, let’s go,” Mustang pulled him forwards, trying to drag him along.

“Hey!”

Ed wrenched his arm back. He didn’t count on the ground, which was muddy and slippery. Mustang didn’t either.

Ed looked up at the sudden weight crushing him and blinked. Roy blinked back.

It took them both a moment to realize where they were, then another to notice how, before they finally scrambled away from each other. Ed’s back was filled with mud and there was a streak of it settled on his nose. The Colonel was mostly clean, though the knees of his pants were black with dirt. He gave Ed an irritated look.

“Could we possibly discuss this _after_ I’ve taken a shower and a cup of tea?”

“Fine,” Ed said with a sigh, shaking his head, “Whatever.”

Purple eyes glinted in the darkness as a quiet observer watched the two Alchemists, soaked and tired, walk away slowly. Something resembling of amusement settled on the Homunculus face, before he dismissed the notion and leaped away.

Edward Elric, Envy told himself, would only be useful if he was whole. So everything he did to ensure his well being had nothing to do with who the brat was, or whose son he happened to be.

Envy pointedly ignored the cynical part of himself, tiny and largely overlooked, that snidely told him what a lousy liar he was to himself.

* * *

Ed looked rather small when he curled like that, Mustang decided, then quickly set himself to correct it. Edward Elric was not small, at least not emotionally small. In many ways, he was better than Roy himself would ever be, and he honestly admired him for it, but there was something there, some sort of inner struggle and for the first time since he met him, Roy saw Ed losing.

“I can’t believe it’s been four years.”

“Time flies, doesn’t it?” Tentatively, he set a cup of tea in front of the blonde, “I never did thank you.”

That brought Ed out of his grim contemplations.

“Thank me?” Golden eyes fixed on him, an eyebrow risen in question, “What would you thank me for, Colonel bastard? I haven’t done a thing right in those four years.”

Roy was ready to deal with anger, with hatred. He was even ready to deal with sorrow. But Ed looked at him resigned, defeated and it was just _wrong_ for the blond to give up like that. It reminded the Colonel, of a certain young man who had returned from Ishbal, broken and tired, but who had a friend who cared enough to push him on to live a new day.

He smiled very, very faintly.

“You’ve done many rights, Edward,” Mustang shrugged, “But that’s not what I wanted to thank you for.”

Ed sipped his tea, frowning slightly, still curled in a defensive way, and looking ridiculous wearing one of Roy’s old shirts and pants. He was shivering slightly and was probably going to catch a cold, but he looked puzzled. Improvement, in any case, from self pity.

“When you brought Envy,” Roy didn’t look at him, instead glaring at the insides of his own cup, watching the swirling liquid, “I was angry, I still am, really, that you had taken such a risk, especially at a time like this.”

“And what the hell was I supposed to do?” The Colonel smiled as the young Alchemist raised to the bait almost at once, “I was _there_ Mustang. You don’t have any idea of the power that… that _thing_ can wield. She left Envy, _Envy_ eating dirt with a single hit! Do you even want to think about what she would do, if she got the stone?”

“I know, Edward, that’s not what I meant,” Roy made a conscious effort to not use Ed’s Alchemist title, “I’m grateful you brought it up, though,” He hid a smile behind his cup; Ed looked utterly bewildered, “You told us Edward. You risked your neck, but you told us, told _me_ about it. I want to thank you for that trust.”

Now the blond looked positively uncomfortable. He shifted on the couch, trying to hide and not sure how to answer that. It was a peace offering, of course, a moment to quiet down and work together as they were supposed to, for the good of everyone involved. Ed shifted again, then shrugged almost casually.

“Yeah, well, thank that bastard, not me,” Ed set the cup on the low table and curled again, tighter than before, “He’s the one that said I couldn’t do this on my own.”

Mustang continued to sip his tea, dark eyes taking in the situation, while Ed pretended he wasn’t there.

Outside, the rain fell.

* * *

“Speak clearly, goddamnit!”

Envy arched an eyebrow at the Colonel, lounging on the couch as if he had no worries. Hawkeye flinched slightly at the sudden outburst and Ed scowled.

“Envy, _please_ ,” Al somehow managed to make his metal body look pitiful enough for the plea to make sense.

“I’m immortal Mustang,” Envy replied with a purr, dark eyes glinting with amusement, “And nowhere, _anywhere_ has an immortal ever bothered to give a straight answer to anyone, it kills the entertainment. Few things are still amusing after the first two centuries, you see? War is one of them.”

He regarded them all with a wicked glint in his eyes, as if they could see again the _thing_ he was. They were essentially insignificant to him and at the same time he needed them as much as they did him. _Equivalent exchange_ , Envy thought wryly, _you should be proud, Old Man, you gave law to man._

“I think, however, that certain _people_ ,” And he delighted himself in a glare at Edward, “Need to prepare properly for the upcoming ball. Attending without the proper preparation would be… _uncouth_.”

“What the heck are you talking about?” Ed snapped, still unnerved by Envy’s smirk.

Mustang and Hawkeye, though, stared in morbid fascination.

“How do you-“

“Dante is old,” Purple eyes glowed with dark intent, “Old enough she only dances to one song,” His eyes glinted again, “We merely change it, and she’ll fall on her own.”

* * *

“You’re so stupid,” The boy said, trailing after him and taunting him with his words as well as with his eyes – _such dreadful demon eyes –_ “Why do you hunt them one by one, if you could catch them all at once?”

He continued with his prayers, ignoring the mocking voice. His body healed fast and his mind was ready, but the child confused him, planted ideas into his mind, manipulated him into doing his – _its_ – biding. He spoke in such a teasing whisper, and then he would find himself doing things he didn’t want to do.

“Imagine that, all the lambs together, groomed and ready for slaughter,” The purring whisper was almost like a physical caress, but he told himself to ignore it, “All the killers of Ishbal, all the traitors, the evil doers, the blasphemic Alchemists… all of them, in a room, ready for their judgment.”

And even as he touched his forehead to the floor, he knew he was damned.

* * *

Al opened the door to their room, and quietly closed it after he slid inside. Ed muttered in his sleep, turned and then snored loudly before settling again. Al smiled again as he walked over to the open window. Envy looked up from where he was sitting on the rail, balancing his feet idly as he watched the night sky and ignored Ed’s sleepy sounds.

“Here,” The suit of armor offered him a large bar of chocolate. The Homunculus blinked, “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Purple eyes glinted for a moment, before he shrugged, grinning. So what if he had been craving it, it wasn’t like he was about to _tell_ the brat, or thank him. Unwrapping it silently, Envy took a rather small bite of the sweet treat and continued to watch the night.

“It must be hard,” Al said after a moment, and Envy mentally counted to ten back and forth. The kid had given him chocolate, so he couldn’t _really_ kill him. Yet. “To be awake so much. And boring too.”

“You know it is, you don’t sleep,” The Sin shrugged, “At all.”

“Well, yes, but…” Much to the Homunculus amusement, Al seemed to shrink away in embarrassment, “I… I won’t be like this forever. I mean, uh… I-“

“Yes, yes, I know the heart breaking story,” Envy snorted, “Your brother will restore you and everything will be a fucking happily ever after, fine.”

The silence was unnerving, occasionally broken by Ed’s snorts and mumbles in his sleep. Envy took another bite, small and almost insignificant, and allowed the chocolate to melt on his tongue. It was a silly thing to do, he was willing to admit it, but it felt nice for a change.

“Can I ask you a question?” Envy looked at the empty armor clustered on a bed far too small for it, and arched an eyebrow, “It’s… you know, sort of personal.”

“Knock yourself out,” The Homunculus seemed to declare a truce so as long as the chocolate lasted.

“How… how old are you, Envy?” The Sin made a strangled sound in his throat, lost his balance and landed not so gracefully on the floor. Al winced, “It’s just… when you were… _talking_ with Greed… you told him you were the first. And I was curious, really… I,” Envy glared at him, “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Al finished lamely.

“I don’t have to do _anything_ if I don’t want to,” Picking himself from the floor, the Sin ran a hand over his hair, the oddly colored bangs bouncing slightly, “I am… Wait,” Envy blinked. “What year is it?”

“Um, 1914?” Al restrained a snicker as the Homunculus blinked again.

“Well fuck,” Envy said after a moment, “Four hundred sixty eight years old.”

Al stared at him for a long moment, then: “Wow. You’re _old._ ”

Envy couldn’t help it, he laughed as he rolled his shoulders, trying to be non-challant. That seemed to ease off the tension and another less tense, almost comfortable silence settled in the room.

Ed grunted in his sleep and struggled to kill his pillow.

“Envy?” The Sin looked up at the small voice, smaller than he had ever heard it. Al was afraid, but he wasn’t looking at him, the glowing eyes of the armor were fixed on his brother, who kept on with his fight against the bed itself. Envy made a questioning noise in the back of throat, another piece of chocolate melting on his tongue, “Do you think we’ll make it? Stop Dante and get the stone?” _Do you think we’re good enough?_

“Bah, the worst that could happen is that you die,” Envy glared at the night sky, sneering, “And that’s certainly better than other things I could come up with.”

“That’s… not precisely the most reassuring thing anyone’s ever told me,” Al said awkwardly, but Envy merely smirked.

“You don’t need reassurance,” The Sin snorted, “You need to get your metallic ass on the move.”

And for some reason, even as Envy finally leaped off the window and into the night, Al felt better. He watched the black bird for a moment, until it was lost in the distance, then noticed the crumpled wrapping by the foot of Ed’s bed. His brother snorted in his sleep, twisting again, before he settled.

Alphonse smiled.

* * *

“Pretty things,” The Alchemist said with a grin, “You’re all so pretty…”

He watched as the arrays were drawn and the creatures created, then pumped with red water as they screeched then fell limp against their restraints. One after the other, all the time, the process was the same, but the results were never exactly so. But who cared about details? They were mindless and perfect and they would not stop once the order was given.

“Master will be so pleased,” The man kissed one of the crystal tubes next to him, smiling dreamily, “And when Master’s pleased… Nina will be too.”

* * *

“This is _not_ what I had in mind,” Envy muttered as he adjusted his clothes.

“Most certainly, neither did I,” Mustang told him with a glare, “But Fullmetal insisted.”

“The bastard just wanted to piss me off,” The Sin growled as he finished the last details of his costume, “Fucking shit.”

Mustang took a moment to calm himself. It wouldn’t do to start a fight when they were so short on time already and really, the Sin hadn’t been doing anything other than being himself. It didn’t mean, however, that the Colonel wasn’t grinding his teeth hard enough he could almost hear it.

“Ready?” He asked in a forced voice, trying not to be unnerved by the apparition before him, Envy snorted.

“Just lets get this shit done.”

The ball was being held on Bradley’s state. High ranking officials and important political and economic associates of the state were present, but there was rather intense applause as their small party entered the room. The hall was luxurious, with an impressive marble staircase at the back and richly decorated columns. It was a testament of the wealth and power of those who came into the room, a monument to their own vanity.

They were announced by rank and title, and immediately assaulted by people who wanted to meet the _wonderful_ Fullmetal Alchemist or the _infamous_ Flame Alchemist. According to plan, Hawkeye moved silently behind Edward, apparently to coach him with the minor details of polite small talk, though if you were to look closer, you’d see it was more to leave conversation shallow. Mustang had brought over one of his countless socialite dates, a pretty girl that was also the daughter of one of the important men attending. He, too, kept his eyes trained on anything out of the ordinary.

“What time is it?” Hawkeye asked discretely, leaning against Ed as another group of people walked towards them.

“I think,” The golden eyes narrowed considerably, fixing on a shadowy figure at the end of the staircase, “It’s time for us to put on a darn good show.”

Führer King Bradley called for silence as he stood in the center of the room. He looked terrible but good humored, the perfect leader. Ed kept his distance, standing in position as Hawkeye remained behind him. A quick glance around the room revealed Mustang was on his on own post, scowling ever so slightly.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” The Führer started, “My friends; today, we’re here…”

* * *

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Ed leveled his younger brother with an incredulous look.

“Of course I’m not sure,” The Fullmetal snorted, “This is Envy’s idea, what do you think we can expect?”

Al didn’t answer and instead concentrated on trying to sneak behind his brother. They moved around the gardens and into the house itself, unnoticed. Ed snorted, as they slid into what appeared to be the kitchens. Or one of the kitchens. The room they were in was deserted. They continued through the maze of corridors, entering through an apparently abandoned side of the manor. Finally, they came about the room they had been looking for, it had to be, it matched the arrangements and decoration Envy had described for them.

“He said it was around here,” Ed looked around the room, but there wasn’t a hint of a safe around.

“Maybe behind a picture?” Al offered as they looked at the four large frames hanging from the walls.

“No, he said it was under something…”

They searched around the small study, moving chairs and tables, looking around the bookshelves and behind the pictures, but it wasn’t until Ed kicked the wall, that he noticed the slight uneven plank on the floor. Tearing it open, despite his brother’s protests, he revealed the safe under the wood, and without a second thought, he transmuted it open.

Inside, just as Envy had promised, laid the latent proof of who the Führer really was.

* * *

After the long speech, there had been toasts, tedious attempts to be subtle in politics, to flatter their host. Ed found he hated it. Hawkeye, at his right, didn’t seem to be bothered about the situation, though it was hard to notice when she looked so… well, _uncomfortable_. Not that it was obvious, but if you were looking for it, it was clear as daylight. Ed amused himself for a while by looking at her. Her gala uniform was immaculate and her presentation spotless, but still, there was just the faintest hint of make up in her face as Mustang, most likely, told her to act on occasion.

Ed had known, since the very first time he had set eyes on her, that it would be a cold day in hell before he caught her on anything remotely resembling of a skirt.

“What are you staring at?” The blonde asked suddenly, frowning as her lips thinned.

“Nothing,” Ed shrugged, “Nothing at all. Don’t forget what you have to do.”

“Of course not,” Hawkeye scowled as she replied testily, not resisting the urge to glare ever so slightly at him.

Just as another man was raising his glass and trying to call attention, there was an explosion somewhere in the house. Three of the present tensed visibly as the guards stormed into the room loaded guns in hand.

“Intruders sir! Everyone must-“

There was another explosion, closer this time, and Ed managed to meet Mustang’s eyes from across the room. _He wouldn’t dare, would he?_ At the next explosion, they cringed, and nodded grimly. _Yeah, he would._ Different reactions broke in the room as everyone moved around to either avoid the danger or protect the Führer. Ed growled as he allowed his left arm to transmutate into a blade and took position as the explosions came closer.

They had planed carefully for the night, but they hadn’t been prepared to face what came out of the smoke screen.

* * *

Al had squeaked in surprise when Ed pushed the bag into him and ordered him out. The explosions were getting louder, and they had the sinking feeling they wouldn’t stop any time soon.

“But… brother!” Ed shoved him towards the other side of the corridor.

“Go, Al, if we lose that, then all this will be in vain,” Golden eyes looked almost pleading for a moment, and the armor reluctantly nodded, “Thanks. I’ll see you soon, promise, then you can help me beat Envy upside the head for this.”

“Ed!” But his brother was already running towards the ball room, determination written in every line of his body.

“Be safe,” Al whispered, a mix between a plea and a prayer, and then ran away, ignoring the rattling sound inside him or the sudden need to have a stomach so that he could wrench it.

_Be safe._

* * *

It was chaos. Absolute chaos. The mindless creatures that sprung forward were deformed, barely human anymore, but filled with so much power, so much will to _destroy_. Some of the present were Alchemists themselves, and didn’t hesitate to try and protect the Führer and the civilians. Hawkeye kept refilling her gun before she finished emptying it. Roy was providing more chaos to the mix, with the show of pyrotechnics. Ed wanted to hit him really badly, but then, he saw her.

Dante was standing atop of the staircase, looking down at the chaos with that same insane glint in her eyes, her lips twisted cruelly. Behind her, there was a familiar figure, Wrath, and Ed resisted the urge to snarl. The old woman smiled and pressed her palms together, just as the blonde’s stomach hit the floor-

-the next thing he knew, though, was that he was in pain and the deafening sound of a second explosion breaking the walls of the room had hit him far too close for comfort.

People screamed and he found himself thrown away and half buried under the remains of the wall. The mindless beasts kept coming, there was a new rumbling voice, the sound of shots… Ed couldn’t really grip himself to reality as the pain grew, to heights it shouldn’t have.

The last thing he saw was Hawkeye staring in silent horror down at him.

* * *

Ed arrived just as Scar threw the wall down with his arm. The blond Alchemist felt himself shivering at the display of power, then strengthened himself and remembered he had work to do. His arm melted into a blade almost without a thought and as he tried to ignore the grotesque creatures that were entering the room, he saw Mustang trying to keep them away. A flash of Alchemy came from the staircase. When he looked up, there was no one there, and the Führer was making a show of fighting the humanoid creatures that were attacking them. Scar was making a beeline for Roy.

“Mustang!” Ed growled as his palms hit the floor.

Roy looked up to see the wall raise up, gaining him time before the Ishbalan attacked. He swore as Scar merely exploded the sudden barrier, red eyes glinting with a promise of blood as he advanced.

And suddenly, before it _really_ started, it was over. Troops broke through, obviously called by the guards, and Scar fled. The chimeras that had been attacking seemed to disappear as well, only a few remaining minutes after their arrival.

“Tend to the injured!” The Führer thundered as the guards tried to secure everyone present, “Investigation can wait, tend to those who were wounded, people are _dying_ in here.”

The concerned man was looking straight at Ed as he said so, watching as the Fullmetal Alchemist retracted his bladed arm and helped to carry the injured. Mustang grimaced as well, but followed the orders and helped around.

Amidst the chaos, no one noticed Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye dragging an unresisting body away, blood trailing after them.

* * *

He ran. Away from the death trap that the monster had set up for him, but he couldn’t run fast enough. Something moved behind him and something glinted in the pale light at his side. But before he could say anything, there was a round of gunfire against him and a searing pain in his shoulder and leg.

“Watch out!!” The voice as eerily empty but familiar.

He looked up to see the flash of light, then earth caving in under him. Or was it around him? Why wasn’t he falling? Lightheaded, he didn’t really register as he was hauled up and settled against a cold body. Metal? Armor. Dimly, he decided he was going to kill the monster next time he saw him.

_Next time…_

The world went blank.

* * *

“Get into the car,” She ordered, and before he could reply, Ed was being shoved into the car’s backseat carelessly.

“Fuck woman, I can’t die,” And it was suddenly Envy there, back to his own body, but still with a six inch hole in his chest, “But damnit if it doesn’t hurt.”

“You aren’t healing,” Hawkeye noted as the Sin winced, “Why?”

“There’s an array on the grounds,” His voice hitched slightly, “Just drive us out of here already.”

Scowling again, she set to do so, going back to where the car had been left waiting, trying to ignore the harsh breathing of her passenger. She was surprised, really, at how accurately Envy had predicted the outcome of their little escapade, even more so at the meticulous planning he had done. Even though he said he hadn’t known what exactly would attack the meeting, his calculation and his _acting_ had been flawless.

Hawkeye shuddered a little, remembering that his skills had been flawless enough to finish off Hughes at some point.

“We’re here,” Her voice was colder as she announced it, but she was surprised to see he was unconscious.

Heaving a sigh, she walked out of the car and carried the Homunculus into another car, then got into the driver seat and from a prudent distance, shot it. She kept driving, though, eyes ahead on the road and trying to grasp a semblance of order in her thoughts.

She tried to ignore the fact not even the explosion of the car had managed to awaken him.

* * *

_“What the fuck do you mean he’s missing?”_

Ed gifted Mustang with his one _scary_ glare, his eyes promising murder. The Colonel wasn’t in the state of mind to deal with this. He wanted a scotch and his warm bed so he could pretend, at least for a while, that he could forget about the scent of burnt flesh and the screeches of those… those _things_.

“I mean exactly that, Fullmetal,” Dark eyes met Ed’s without flinching, Mustang’s face set into a grimace, “I called Hawkeye, he wasn’t at the meeting point.”

“God _damn_ it.”

“He’s fine, Edward,” The Colonel hoped the use of his given name would calm the volatile teen, if even a little, “Alphonse is capable of defending himself, he’ll probably arrive at Hawkeye’s in time.”

“I don’t want to leave him,” _But I’m so tired._ The Golden eyes looked up at him questioningly, worry and exhaustion fighting a war with each other.

“Let’s go, everything will be fine tomorrow morning,” He guided the blonde to the car that was waiting, and as he started it, he allowed himself a second to look at Bradley's ruined state. They had finally managed to put out the fire, but the scent of death remained.  
Mustang shivered.

_Everything will be fine._

* * *

It wasn’t until about two in the morning that Envy gave a sign of life again. Moaning a bit against her pillow, Hawkeye decided she couldn’t really stay in bed and instead went over to the kitchen of her small apartment. The sin was stirring something on the stove, humming a monotone. Black Hayate watched him curiously from a corner, unperturbed by the Sin’s appereance in the apartment.

"What are you doing?" Peering down into the bowl, Hawkeye raised an eyebrow at the fumes that were coming out of it, "I thought you couldn't cook."

"I can't," He smirked, "That doesn't mean I can't make poison."

The light green liquid hissed as it was transplanted into a distillation unit that had been hastily put together from various common kitchen utensils and smoldered somewhat.

"What _is_ that?" She mused as she watched with morbid fascination as the liquid cleared.

"That is the only thing strong enough to get a Homunculus drunk," Envy announced with a twisted grin, "And after you almost got me killed last night, I dearly deserve it."

Hawkeye frowned and prepared to retort something, when she thought better of it. Envy looked fine, but his eyes were darkened and looking… well, for lack of comparison, almost _human_. The mission had been a success, they had what they needed, no one had noticed the moment the Homunculus and the real Edward had swapped places and she was really, _really_ tired.

“Alright,” She shrugged, though the frown was still there somewhere, “Will the couch be enough for you?”

“Yes, yes,” He waved dismissingly at her, “Go sleep or something, I’m not setting the place on fire or anything. I just need to get buzzed.”

The blonde looked at him for a long moment, then turned to the dog in the corner with a slight frown, but eventually just sighed. And against better judgment, went to sleep while a known psychopath who wasn’t even human was preparing some sort of venom in her kitchen.

She wondered if the infamous Elric carelessness was rubbing off on her.

* * *

“Sit down,” Roy growled as Ed kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other, nervously, “I’m making tea.”

The blonde opened his mouth to retort something, then decided against it and simply plopped down on the couch. He was a wreck, the adrenaline that had kept him going finally leaving him exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally. His rational mind told him the mission had been a success, they had gotten what they needed out of the Führer’s home, there hadn’t been that many injured people and they had managed to get out relatively in one piece.

But his emotional side protested that Al wasn’t back. That he couldn’t dare to call it successful if Al wasn’t back. That tiny part of himself screamed and kicked and protested, insulting him for leaving his brother behind, for allowing that bastard to keep them apart. If he were a good brother, it whispered angrily, he wouldn’t be in a cozy apartment, he would be looking for his brother in the streets, he wouldn’t stop until he found him.

Mind and heart battled constantly, trying to rearrange his priorities and make him _do_ something. But then his body, tired and worn out from the fight, put a lid on the matter before knocking itself out, demanding sleep.

Roy muttered under his breath, Edward Elric was not something he enjoyed having in his apartment. Especially not when the kid was panicking over Alphonse. Heaving a sigh, he watched the water boil as he tried to calm himself. He _liked_ the boy, teen, whatever. He liked the bursts of temper and the complete disregard for authority, his need to stand out, his selfless nature. Roy honestly admired him and held him in high regard, but of the late he had become such a distraction…

With the war that was brewing and Archer just waiting for a chance to jump and bring him down, he couldn’t allow himself to be worried over some reckless teen that insisted on risking his neck in the oddest ways. But he did worry, because deep inside he cared about him, and as Ed had said earlier that week, it _had_ been four years with the boy. Four years of disrespect and rebellion, of pushing and pulling and trying to get the upper hand. Four years of temper tantrums in his office and quests to help others but not himself. Four years as the Bastard Colonel.

And somehow, somewhere along the way, Ed had banged himself into his heart as well, because more anything, Roy realized he wanted the boy to be happy. And to top it all, he had managed not only to push the kid into hating him – something he knew he deserved – but into the open arms of that monster. That sickeningly cynical beast, with his stupid green hair and his murderous eyes that played with them all the time. Roy felt bile rise in his throat at the thought of the Homunculus, his insides twisting the wrong way.

The sharp whistling of the kettle stopped his thoughts, and shoving them away, he served the tea. Taking a mug in each hand, he entered the living room… and smiled in spite of himself.

Ed was thrown carelessly on the couch, fast asleep and curling around himself. His hair was a mess, strands managing to get out of the braid, and his clothes were torn and dirty. But it was the most open and peaceful expression Roy had ever seen on his face, so he placed the mugs on the low table and went to the guest room. When he came back, he carefully wrapped a blanket around the blonde and left him the mug of tea at hand.

“Good night,” Roy smiled as he walked towards his own room, “Edward.”

* * *

Scar awoke with a jolt when a deep pain settled in his left shoulder. Something was pressing insistently at it, and by reflex he caught it with his cursed arm. There was a gasp of surprise, and the feeling of cold metal under his fingers. Forcing himself to open his eyes, he found himself staring at the glowing eyes of a suit of armor.

“You’re awake, good,” And as irrational as it sounded, the thing seemed to be _smiling_ , “I was scared… the wounds wouldn’t stop bleeding…”

 _Wounds? What-_ Pain cursed through him again as the surprisingly gentle fingers fixed his shoulder and leg. _Oh_ , he thought fuzzily, _those wounds._ The big suit of armor started humming softly as he finished the bandages and then disappeared from view. Scar panicked for a moment before a cup was pressed to his lips.

“Here,” A large hand settled on his head and raised him so he could drink, and though he was reluctant, the cool water felt good on his lips. After a few grateful sips, the cup was removed and he was settled gently back on the bed, “Feeling better?”

“Who-“ Blinking again, the large man cleared his throat as he noted his rough voice and tried again, easier this time, “Why?”

“Why?” Al brought him a bowl of soup, “Why what?”

“This!” Scar growled, his patience ticking away as the… well, the _thing_ unnerved him with his kindness, “The bandages, the water, the food. Why are you doing this?”

“Because…” Alphonse paused, “Well, because it’s the right thing to do. I couldn’t just let you bleed to death in the middle of the road, could I?” He looked around the room almost sheepishly, “Though I wished I could have found somewhere nicer to stay.”

For the first time Scar noticed the room, a hotel room. Shabby and run down, but mostly clean. The furniture was scarce and simple, nothing more than the bed he was resting on and a night stand where Al had placed the cup of water and some other first aid items.

“Do you know who I am?” The Ishbalan asked finally, brow furrowed at the selfless kindness.

“Well, of course I do,” Al laughed and shrugged, making the armor rattle, “Brother complains about you a lot. To tell the truth, I think he and the Colonel are scared of you.”

“You-“

“My name is Alphonse Elric,” The armor said almost proudly, “And you’ve spent the last few months trying to kill my brother, the Full Metal Alchemist.”

* * *

Roy knocked the door quietly. It was early, and he was loath to wake Hawkeye, especially after the mission the night before, but he really needed to find Alphonse. He wasn’t at the dorms, he had checked, and he was starting to worry. The door opened almost at once, and a rather disgruntled female greeted him.

“Yes?” Her left eyebrow was twitching and she looked pale. Roy blinked at the sheer violence her tone promised.

“Can I-“

“Get inside and close the door,” She turned on her heel and stalked towards the kitchen, adding as an after though, “Sir.”

Blinking again, the Colonel did as told. A low moan caught his attention though, and he turned to the living room wide eyed. He stared.

“Riza?” His voice sounded shaken even to his own ears and as he turned, a cup of coffee was shoved to his hands. He coughed awkwardly, “Why is Envy humping your couch?”

“Because he’s drunk,” She answered testily, her left eyebrow twitching again, and motioned to the empty glass in the low table of the living room, “And I’m trying to ignore it.”

The Homunculus groaned. Black Hayate was peering at the mass of green hair, sniffing curiously. Its tail banging around, the dog barked slightly, causing the rumpled Sin to moan louder.

“It’s disturbing.”

“Hence the ignoring part, sir,” Her sarcasm wasn’t nice when she hadn’t slept enough, and he flinched slightly, “Is there any reason you’re here, Roy?”

“Actually,” Thankful for the opening, he shrugged as casually as he could, while ignoring Envy, “I’m looking for Alphonse.”

“Here?” And this time _she_ was the one to look surprised, “Shouldn’t you be looking for him at the dorms?”

“I did,” Shaking his head, Mustang ran a hand over his hair, “He isn’t there.”

“Oh.”

 

* * *

_Dear Ed,_

_I’m sorry I didn’t go back to the meeting point as planned. But I’m fine, don’t worry. I… please don’t be mad, alright? I’m with Scar right now. He’s hurt pretty bad, and I’m worried he might not make it. Before you run into a blind panic, I know who he is, brother, but I also know who he isn’t. He’s not going to hurt me, don’t worry, but he needs my help. The marks on his arm… I think they are related to the stone._

_I… I made a deal with him. Oh Ed, please, please don’t be mad… This could be important! He said he would stop his hunting of State Alchemists if I helped him figure out the marks. I think it’s an array. I have the… er,_ thing _we got out of the manor, too._

_Listen Ed, don’t worry about me. This is not the time, Scar told me some things… Wrath has been stalking him, he’s been telling him to go to Lior. I’m safe here, he needs me and I… I can defend myself. So damnit, go and follow the plan, ok? Envy knows what he’s doing, brother, I got this feeling… he’s familiar, isn’t he? He reminds me of you sometimes. But that’s not the point._

_I guess… I guess the point is you get everything going and follow along. I’m going to Lior with Scar… I’ll meet you there. Promise I’ll stay safe and sound so you don’t have to worry about me._

_Heh, I had intended to write a short note and I did a whole letter… I think I’m not very good at saying good-bye at all, am I? But please, just this once, listen to me Ed._ Please _. I’ll be safe. I’ll see you in Lior, and once we’ve stopped Dante, I promise you can beat me up for this._

_Love,_

_Al._

_Ps. The chocolate is for Envy. Don’t deny the poor thing the only comfort in his… er, unlife. Or else. I’m serious, Edward Elric, I know where you sleep._

* * *

“Urg.”

Hawkeye smiled despite the situation. Envy sat up groggily, a hand rubbing furiously on his face as he attempted to wake up properly. His hair was mussed, the head band was missing – and Hawkeye had the sinking suspicion it was that black thing hanging from the ceiling lamp – and his clothes were crumpled and messy. He looked paler than usual, a feat in itself, and his purple eyes were unusually dark.

Envy had the hangover of the century, and Hawkeye was trying hard not to laugh.

“Here,” Offering him a glass of water got her a surprisingly thankful look, before he downed it almost at once.

“I think I’ve just figured out why Homunculi shouldn’t try to get drunk,” He told her, apparently feeling too miserable to try and be snide.

“Because it’s stupid, pointless and moronic?” She replied unkindly before she could stop herself, arching an eyebrow and expecting an insult.

“Yes, woman, but also because it hurts like hell,” Envy glared, rather weakly by comparison to other glares she had gotten from him, “And damnit, it’s too early for you to be that coherent.”

“It’s almost noon, Envy,” Hawkeye allowed herself a small smile, amused at the situation.

Envy snorted.

“Precisely my point,” He let his head fall back, then frowned, “Where’s the dog?”

“What?” He snorted as he watched her blink, bewildered.

“I want to know if I killed it last night,” Her eyes widened, “Not that I _did_ anything. Just… scared it. A bit.”

There was a shot, and a whine.

“ _OW!_ ”

In retrospect, Hawkeye regretted having shot the Homunculus, because even if it didn’t kill him and seeing it in pain was satisfying, seeing him bleed and poke at the wound to remove the bullet was not pleasant. It was pretty gross, actually.

And then she noticed the black tail twitching, barely visible behind the couch.

For the sake of her conscience, Hawkeye said nothing.

* * *

“I think I got used to the idea of him being here.”

Roy stopped at the soft words, turning to face Ed. The blonde was standing by the stove, apparently making breakfast. His feet were bare and his hair held back in a poor attempt at a pony tail. There was a crumpled paper on the small kitchen table. But Roy quickly looked past that and to the prominent knot of tension on the boy’s neck, his stiff spine and his soft voice.

“Worst of all,” Turning to give him a small smile over his shoulder, the golden eyed teen motioned to the letter, “Is that I can’t really be angry at him. At least not as I want to.”

There was a sharp intake of breath as Roy quickly scanned the letter, then he turned to give Ed an almost surprised look.

“You’re not going after him?”

“What for?” Ed snorted as he set the scrambled eggs on two plates, “Al is, as much as I want to ignore it, quite capable of defending himself. And he’d be disappointed in me if I tail him,” The Colonel didn’t realize he had sat down until Ed placed a plate before him, “Besides, he’s right. Scar wouldn’t hurt him. He wants me dead, not seething and murderous,” Snorting again, he sat across from Roy, picking at his eggs with a fork, before smirking wryly, “And someone needs to baby-sit Envy.”

At the mention of the Homunculus, Mustang’s face darkened. He was scowling when he took a bit of the breakfast Ed had made. He paused, then blinked.

“This is pretty good,” He admitted as Ed smiled lightly; then Roy smirked, “All things considered.”

“Hey!”

“After all, I didn’t think you could _reach_ the stove-“

“ _Who are you calling so short he can’t reach the cabinets without a stool?_ ”

* * *

_“Elysia!” The woman smiled as she waved at the small girl, “Come here dear!”_

Rain was good. Rain was cleaning. Rain was the cry of nature. Rain could substitute tears he wish he could cry. Tears were for humans, for those who still held the hope of Death, of the ultimate comfort. Envy only had the rain.

_The woman looked up as Elysia hugged her tightly. Gracia. The name came easily to his mind, but not with his own voice… rather, in the last whisper of a dying man. An unfortunate victim. He sat there, perching on a branch and unsure of what to do, until she smiled._

_“Would you like a cup of tea? Elysia has told me so much about you...”_

It was cold. Some distant part of him recognized the signs of harsh weather, the bite of icy rain against his skin, but he didn’t care about it. What did he care, if the wounds would be gone even before they could really set in? It was pointless pain, pain without a reason, pain that wasn’t worth feeling. Above everything, Envy hated pain.

_The living room was relatively small, but instead of feeling cozy, it made him feel caged. He trailed after the woman, silently, listening to her soft words, the kindness behind them, and trying to figure out why he hadn’t run away yet. When he sat down on the couch, Elysia had wormed her way against him, sitting on his lap and refusing to move at all. And he felt at his lowest when Gracia_ saw _and did nothing but_ smile.

And suddenly the bite of rain stopped. Looking up, he found Hawkeye looking down at him with a frown, umbrella in her hand. He looked, without a doubt, like a drown rat, but he didn’t particularly care as she arched an eyebrow in question.

“I like the rain,” Envy said, as if it explained everything, “It’s not like I can get sick or something.”

_“Roy came by earlier this month, you know?” She said almost casually, setting her cup on the table, and the Homunculus tensed, trying hard not to wake the sleeping child on his lap, “Warned me not to let Elysia out in the park again.”_

_“It’s a very sensible warning,” He replied slowly, wondering why he hadn’t bothered to change his appearance since he entered the room. If Gracia thought anything of his hair or his clothes, she said nothing._

_“It seems, though,” And she_ smiled _again, “That I’m not exactly a sensible woman.”_

“It’s one of the few things that hasn’t changed at all,” He felt the corner of his lip curling in a self mocking smile, “But surely, Lieutenant Hawkeye, you have better things to do than to listen to a suddenly melancholic Homunculus.”

Hawkeye’s frown deepened, something glinting in her eyes as she moved the umbrella away. Envy hissed slightly as the cold shower of the rain fell down on him again, and glared a bit when she gave him a tiny smirk. His eyebrows arched though, as she folded the umbrella with a sigh, and sat down on the grass, next to him. Her navy uniform darkened as the rain poured down on her, and her hair plastered to her face in a ridiculously endearing way.

“You’d be surprised,” She said finally, placing her umbrella on her lap.

_“I-“ He tensed, pupils slitting on instinct as he prepared himself for an attack._

_“I loved my husband more than life itself,” She began, and though her eyes turned sad, she didn’t stop smiling at him, “He was a good man, a happy man. He loved me and he loved his daughter… but he loved his duty above everything else,” He realized with a jolt that he was shaking, and swallowed hard, “I know what you did. I know that you killed him, Roy told me when he came and demanded I removed Elysia from your presence.”_

“Almost every Homunculus I’ve met wanted to become human,” He shrugged as he looked at her with a half smirk, water running down his face in rivers, mocking tears, “Do you know why?”

“Because you’re monsters,” Her words held no venom, only facts, “Because you want to be who you were supposed to be.”

“Partly, yes,” Envy shook his head, “Young Homunculi think like that, they want to _belong_ somewhere. After all, most were abandoned by their creators, but no… as you grow older, the only thing you want… is to feel again.”

_He stood up so abruptly he almost let Elysia fall, but he caught her in the last moment and let her slide into the couch instead, his eyes wide and his hands trembling. Gracia kept the smile, sad and bittersweet, fixed on her face as she stood up too._

_“Mommy?”_

“You do feel,” The blonde’s voice was soft, tinted with puzzlement, then wry amusement, “I recall you feeling quite sick a few hours ago. In my bathroom to be exact.”

Envy laughed, shaking his head in amusement. He praised her wit with a small smirk.

“Oh, I feel… like an animal would. I feel hunger and pain and cold and very rarely, yes, sickness too,” His eyes were dark, “But what you feel for your Colonel, what the Shrimp feels for his brother, that… that is something I cannot feel. I’ve forgotten how.”

_“It’s alright,” She was walking towards him, and for some reason, he felt panic rising. Stupid really, since she couldn’t do him any harm, but nevertheless, he backed away from her, “It’s quite alright.”_

_“Stop,” His voice didn’t shake though, he forced himself to calm down, and he finally stood tall, dark eyes narrowed, “Whatever you want, just say it and be done with it.”_

“You feel for Elysia,” She told him matter of factly, shivering under the cold and looking stoic even if her lips had begun to turn blue, “I don’t know what, exactly, but you do feel something.”

“Not really,” The Sin shrugged, “She amuses me, but so do children as a rule.”

“You haven’t killed her yet.”

“She hasn’t given me reason, but I will when she does,” He arched an eyebrow at her scowl, “Why does it surprise you, Lieutenant? You said it yourself, I’m a monster.”

_“I forgive you.”_

“Are you trying to convince me, Envy?” It was the first time she called him by name, and he arched an eyebrow at her smirk, “Or are you trying to convince yourself?”

_I forgive you._

* * *

“Do you love me?”

The question was childish, but it was phrased in just the right way to make the brown haired woman blink slowly. _I love you, Trish._ Love? Love was a human thing, below them. _Love you momma!_ Love was not meant for a Homunculus, they were just not made for it. They were abandoned, because they were not fit to be loved. _I’ll love you forever mom._ It just took her a look at whatever remained of Gluttony, pitiful and mindless, completely broken after the lost of his beloved Lust to understand that.

The irony was not lost on Sloth, and yet she smiled.

“I remember what loving someone felt like,” She cradled the youngest Homunculus against her, running her fingers through his hair in a soothing manner, “Yes,” Came her final answer, and she felt his small body go limp against her, “Yes, I do.”

Wrath remained against her, shivering and afraid, and Sloth felt a pang of irrational fear he had found out their Master’s displeasure with her. Of the cold, calculative glint in her eye, as she had dispatched her fellow Homunculus, tearing Lust down into baser components in such a messy way it had made them all feel nauseous.

And then Envy had been sealed.

For some irrational moment, Sloth tightened her hold on a child that wasn’t hers but that she loved just the same and wished, _wished_ so ferverently that she was alive and human and had a soul that would protect her from the tidal wave of inexistence.

“I love you too,” He was a child, he had never known, had never _felt_ love before, couldn’t remember it.

When she sent him away, with a small smile and soft words, she knew she would not see him again. Sloth hoped Dante still had enough compassion within her to kill her while he was away, to spare him the torment of seeing her die. She hoped he didn’t really mean his words, if only to spare him the heartbreak.

She knew she hoped in vain.

* * *

“Fuck, I _like_ your brother,” Envy smirked, “That couldn’t have been more perfect.”

It was late and by silent agreement, no one asked about the past few days and the sleeping agreements. Central was an uproar of fury after the attack on the Führer’s state; people were questioned and the preparations for the attack on Lior became more and more pronounced. Ed became a common sight on Mustang’s couch – office and home – and Envy disappeared all day long, only to come back a few hours to steal Hawkeye’s couch and terrorize Black Hayate – and getting shot for it - often enough, she wondered if he was a masochist.

“What do you have in mind?” The Colonel’s voice was icy, his eyes dark as he spoke before Ed could finish spluttering.

“We need to gather the missing remains, which are in Dublith, and then…” The purple eyes filled with ill amusement, “Then we need to retrieve something from the Briggs Mountains.”

“What?” The golden eyed Alchemist glared, “Dublith I get it, but go to the Briggs? That’d take us ages!”

“What’s in the mountains, Envy?” The Colonel’s hands were clenching the arms of his chair, and his eyes were glinting as he forced himself to be polite, to prove he was more human than… than the _thing_ that dared to smirk at him.

“Notes, diaries,” The Homunculus didn’t seem too thrill about the prospect either, “Things I would rather leave buried there, but which you’ll need,” He glared at Ed, and Ed glared back, “In order to create the array.”

“Why is it good that Alphonse has left?”

Startled, the three men stopped their glaring match and turned to the until then silent Hawkeye. She had remained standing behind, while Envy and Ed confronted the Colonel, but the small frown in her forehead showed she had reading something behind Envy’s words. Something she didn’t like.

“Because I need an Alchemist to unseal what I hid away in the mountains,” The Homunculus sat back, crossing his legs and his arms as he looked away, “But Bradley will start moving the troops as soon as possible and take them away.”

“But if I were to give Ed a leave to go and find his brother-“ Mustang frowned, annoyed at the Sin being, once again, right.

“Not find, rescue,” The Fullmetal frowned at Envy’s voice, “Outside this room, everyone must think Scar has kidnapped the brat, otherwise Dante will know something is going on.”

“The brat has a name!” Ed exploded, as usual avoiding the point and going for the insult.

Envy opened his mouth to retort something snide, but apparently changed his mind when he glared and closed it without making a sound. Ed could have been mistaken, but he swore he could see something painful lurking behind the purple eyes before the glow. The Sin disappeared.

Outside the building, the guard on duty took a moment to wonder why would a sparrow come out flying from the Colonel’s office, but then decided he didn’t want to know.

* * *

The Colonel had thought long and hard about it, before finally deciding he _did_ need Hawkeye’s input to the situation, as she was the only person – _alive_ , his mind added snidely – that would give him a straight answer.

And who wouldn’t run directly to the authorities to denounce him, too.

So he stood there, in front of the office door, shifting his weight from foot to foot. It was a fairly simple door, nothing impressive. But he couldn’t really get himself to open it. Everyone was gone, too, it was late and only Riza would stay behind until late at night, filing away reports and making sure paperwork was in perfect order before leaving for home.

Riza would be there, she always was, not judging, _never_ judging, just there.

Listening to him, helping him, pushing him right to the top. Suddenly Roy felt really bad about himself and what he intended to do. Riza Hawkeye had dealt with him enough, she had endured things no other sane human being should, and though she had showed her displeasure at some of his actions, she had never disappointed him. She had never failed him.

Then, just as he decided to leave and keep _that_ particular drama to himself, there was a low moan and Roy tensed.

"I'm hating you so much right now..." Hawkeye's voice was muffled by the door, but it sounded... pained, sort of, "Stop that!"

"What?" Envy sounded like a bastard - he always did, in Roy's mind - and the dark haired Alchemist could just picture the damn beast grinning. A distant part of Roy’s mind noticed Envy had been following the Lieutenant of the late, while the last details of their trip to Dublith were being sort out, and he felt himself grimacing. Behind the door, he heard a loud and sharp gasp, and the Homunculus mocking voice again, "What do you say about _this_? Do you think your little Colonel would like it?"

She shrieked, and Roy stormed inside. The Homunculus and the blonde froze. Roy stared. There were _two_ Hawkeye in front of him. One was the familiar Lieutenant, dressed in a prim uniform and with her gun out... the other was Hawkeye... in a miniskirt. It was fairly accurate image to what he had planned, playfully, when he said he was going to change the dress code for female officers. The jacket was the same, but the blue fabric that made up the skirt hung perfectly on hips that though Hawkeye’s, _weren’t_ really Riza’s.

“Er..." Miniskirt Hawkeye paused, sensing she - he, _whatever_! - was about to get shot and/or roasted.

"...Sir," Hawkeye tried her damn hardest to ignore her flaming cheeks, "This is really not what it looks like."

"...I don't want to know."

Roy stalked away as fast as he could without breaking into a run, and tried not to flinch when he heard the hysterical laughter – the fucking beast cackled like a _hyena_ – that followed his hasty retreat.

He felt mildly better when the sound of gunshot reached his ears.

* * *

“I can do this. It’s easy, really. I _so_ can deal with this. I deal with Homunculi and bastard Colonels, of course I can deal with it. I-“

Envy and Hawkeye shared a look as Ed stood in front of the door, hand raised but not yet knocking. He had been going on about it for about twenty minutes, giving himself a mumbled prep talk to go and actually knock the door. Finally, Envy lost what little remains of patience he had, and have the door a strong hit with the back of his hand.

“There,” He snarled, then arched an eyebrow as Ed paled into a translucent shade that was mildly amusing to see, “What’s so-“

“Who’s-“

Izumi opened her door to see her former student frozen in fear with what was very obviously a not-human thing nearby. Her hands clapped almost by instinct, and the next thing Envy knew was that he was flying over the front yard.

“Teacher!”

Before Envy could finish groaning and getting on his feet again, Hawkeye had her gun pointed at Izumi, her eyes narrowed. Ed paled and stuttered half excuses as he waved his hands in a feeble attempt to calm down Izumi.

“Well _fuck_ you, Midget,” The Sin growled as he cracked his neck, sporting an expression that looked suspiciously like a sulk, “I’m starting to think that all I’ll need to get killed is meet your goddamn family.”

Ed shut his mouth tightly and whirled around with a death glare out of myth. Envy glared right back. Hawkeye blinked for a second before her brow furrowed and her grip on her gun tightened.

“A dog of the military and a Homunculus,” Izumi said quietly, her eyes glinting strangely as Ed flinched, “Edward Elric, explain yourself, _now_.”

* * *

The woman hated him, really. If Envy had a single poetic bone in his body, he would compare her hatred to the fire of a thousand suns and the scorching of hell itself. If Envy had a single bone of self control in his body, he would refrain from smirks and grins that, though were faked, just added to that hatred.

But he didn’t, so he delighted himself by pissing off Izumi.

She was a big fat hypocrite, in his eyes at least. She had had the nerve, not only to summon a Homunculus – a crime in itself – but not reject it and abandon it, as everyone did. No. She had _shoved_ it back through the Gate. As if it had been a failed pet project. And then, after Wrath had scratched and bitten to survive, she came around and made a ridiculous attempt to tame him. And when he didn’t fit her stupid mould of a good child, she tried to destroy it, _again_.

_But **I** am the monster,_ the Homunculus thought darkly as he stood in the clearing, ignoring everything that went on around him. He was receiving a good reminder of everything he hated about humanity. Conflicting emotions were always his weakness, he could admit, quietly, to himself. The burning hatred for humans, for the Elrics, for Dante, for _Him._ That last one stood out like a sore thumb, a knot of flaring anger and hurt and abandon that felt so sickeningly familiar, Envy realized he would stop being himself if it were removed. The other side of the coin, the starving need for closure, for ending, for _stopping_ the madness that was his existence.

“This is fucking _shit_ ,” The Homunculus muttered with a snort, glaring at the sky for a moment, before he turned to watch the blond Alchemist cut some wood.

_I remember doing that._

Envy blinked, startled at the random thought as he watched a beam of wood splintering to nothing. He remembered, faintly at first, then more clearly, a young man hammering his anger into wood, while an old crone watched him with amusement. Before him, history repeated itself; only it was a broken Alchemist, alone and unsure of what he was doing but unwilling to give up, instead of a lonely child trying to fit in. And the old crone was not a wise and wild woman of the East, who seemed to house the wrinkles of time itself on her face, but a dying, lonely sinner who didn’t even realize what sins she was trying to atone to. Distantly, he noticed the blonde – Hawkeye, his mind supplied easily – standing guard by the skirts of the forest, scowling as per usual. Of all the people Mustang could have saddled them with as a body guard – Envy snorted at that, as if _he_ needed a babysitter – he hadn’t expected him to part with his second in command. The sheer devotion the woman had for that spineless idiot was amusing to contemplate, and Envy had spent a good part of their train ride figuring out _what_ could she possibly see in a self-centered, childish, immature brat of a man who thought he could change the world.

Envy snorted loudly, but ignored the looks he got as he made his presence known.

He smelled and heard him first, but when the twig snapped, Master and Student turned to look at the shadow on the edge of the forest. The blonde Lieutenant tensed, and pointed her gun to somewhere behind him. Envy didn’t turn, giving his back to the new comer, though he could picture him clearly in his mind. The long hair, the insane grin, the wicked glare. He began turning just as footsteps, at an inhuman pace, sped towards him. Izumi gasped as Ed tensed, but neither were the objective. Through the corner of his eyes, Envy saw Hawkeye set her finger on the trigger. But no, Wrath only had eyes for him.

The taller Homunculus looked down at Wrath as he pressed his face against his chest. Envy’s hand was already raised and clawed, and it stopped midair, when he noticed the mismatched arms were hugging him, not trying to crush him.

Wrath was _clinging_ to him.

Envy blinked. He watched with morbid fascination as the younger Sin sobbed. Homunculus were not supposed to cry, yet Wrath did. Distantly, the shape shifter felt his shirt growing damp, as well as a few tears falling on the bare skin of his abdomen, leaving a tingling sensation that made him light headed. His hand was still raised in attack, and distantly, he could feel two pairs of eyes fixed on him. He didn’t care about them, when he lowered his hand, retracting the claws, and buried his fingers into the softer strands of hair.

The sobs got louder.

Somehow, though he wasn’t entirely sure how, Envy found himself sitting on the floor, with Wrath trying to get under his skin, wailing miserably as he held tightly onto him. It was disturbing and unnatural and completely surreal, but he decided not to say a thing.

He knew, perhaps better than anyone, that sometimes a hug was all that was needed.

* * *

He hadn’t moved at all. Ed furrowed his brow as he watched the small shadow run away through the trees, movements unnaturally agile. Envy watched Wrath slither away, pensive.

“Dante’s started to kill off her Sins,” Envy felt his lips curl in a grimace, “We’re useless to her now, or so she thinks,” He looked up to give Ed an unamused smirk, “So she can give herself the pleasure of disposing of… hindrances, such as Lust… or Sloth.”

There was a sharp gasp and an uneasy silence in the clearing.

“You said you were going to kill them,” Looking up, he found the blonde looking at him curiously, a mix of wonder coloring over disapproval. Envy arched an eyebrow, when he caught sight of the growing tremble in the blonde’s limbs, “The other Homunculi, you said you were going to kill them.”

Envy watched him closely for a moment, dark eyes taking in subtle cues of the nervous mess that Edward Elric was at the moment. After a second, he shrugged, realizing the boy was relieved and horrified, that his mother’s look alike was gone, and still feeling guilty about it.

“Perhaps,” Envy finally said, shrugging as he turned to look at the forest, where Wrath had run to, “He’s just a brat.”

And he meant that in so many ways… Mentally, emotionally, physically. Wrath was just a kid, broken and hastily put back together, but a kid nonetheless. Envy took a moment to remember his odd reasoning, why he chose to watch and wait, rather than to feed him the stones at the first chance. He was an experiment of sorts, to prove the theory of their soulless state, even when they hadn’t been fed with the stones.

He had wanted to see how human a Homunculus could be, but he was starting to regret his own curious nature.

“I sent him away,” The Sin admitted after a while, “He ran from Dante’s service, so I sent him away.”

“Where?” Ed frowned, brow furrowed as golden eyes reflected their owner’s inner conflict.

“To where he can make sure your stupid brat of a brother won’t find a can opener nearby.”

Ed’s eyes widened and he felt the familiar roar of fury, his body trembling with indignation, but then he blinked, startled. When he finally managed to make sense of what Envy meant, the Homunculus was long gone.

* * *

It could be worse, really. He could be a State Alchemist. He could be a psychopath. He could-

He could stop making him feel like the lowest thing since Kimblee.

Scar watched with amusement and certain discomfort as his new self-appointed companion entertained himself by making dinner. He was rather surprised by the gentleness the metal giant was capable of, only surpassed by his never ending source of cheer. So far, in the past week, they had walked at the pace he had set, which was taxing and very demanding, but Alphonse had not complained at all. Two days after they had safely snuck out of Central, there was a sudden heat wave, and Scar had been forced to slow down. Alphonse had merely offered him a light shrug and the promise of cool dinner.

Today, however, he had issued his first complaint, and Scar still felt bad about his initial reaction to it. Outside, rain thundered and poured out so harshly he could barely see ahead of him. He had traveled through that and worse before and had scoffed at Alphonse’s reluctance, until he revealed the secret.

Since then – about sixteen hours ago – Scar had been staring almost mystified by the intricate array in the front of the armor. Blood seal. _Blasphemy_ , some part of his mind, that which lusted after the blood of State Alchemists, screeched in outrage. _Token of devotion_ , retorted another quiet voice, so much like his older brother’s, that Scar felt his throat tighten in reflex.

“I’m glad I can’t feel things,” Al mused with a grin Scar couldn’t see, but could read in his tone.

Blinking, the Ishbalan turned to his companion and blinked again. So, _maybe_ the cave they were in was small, but Scar hadn’t really given much thought to it. The night before, when they had arrived to it, it had been dark and he had been cranky – really, there were only so many insects he could take buzzing around his ears before he felt the need to _bang_ make them explode into tiny specks – and Alphonse hadn’t said anything at all, but looking at it…

He was suddenly glad the kid couldn’t feel anything too, the way he was twisting his head and arms and legs so he could move around the small cave looked painful.

“Really?” Came his rather dumb inquiry, and the Ishbalan took a moment to mentally kick his own ass and tell himself that he sucked and should rather shut up.

“No, but it’s a consolation.”

Scar stared at him, but before he could open his mouth to say something, _anything_ , Alphonse presented him a small bowl of soup – soup seemed to be all he had eaten in the past week, and Scar’s stomach curled a little in protest.

“Does it taste good?”

Shutting his mouth with more force than was necessary, the Ishbalan told his stomach to shut the _hell_ up and nodded mutely. He ate silently, watching the armor that housed the most noble spirit he had ever met, and wondered if there was any measure of justice in the world.

Alphonse watched the rain fall, and thought of his brother.

* * *

Envy was annoyed.

No, scratch that, he was past annoyance, he was down right _pissed off_. He prided himself in his ability to predict the outcome of almost everything that happened around him – he _had_ spent a good part of his pathetically boring existence observing and analyzing humans, after all – but _this_ particular miscalculation had him seething in annoyance… at _himself_.

Wisely, though Hawkeye was probably behind it, Ed refrained from commenting, merely glaring off at the windows while Envy sulked in peace, perched precariously on the rail atop their heads.

Not that he would admit he was sulking.

Or that he was in peace.

But the principle was there.

Somehow, Dante had known he was alive. Or that there was a chance he was alive. Gluttony’s remains, which had always been buried in the depths of the manor, deep enough so as to not stop him, were not in their place. Or rather, they had been reduced to something so primal, they no longer existed. And he had noted that she had had _the nerve_ to leave _his_ mortal remains – or, redundantly, whatever remained of his remains – in the small niche that had housed them for centuries.

Oh, how he _hated_ the smartass bitch.

_Well_ , a voice within, which sounded suspiciously like Lust, said cheerfully – or at least less gloomily than the rest of him, _if anything, you found Wrath. And you extracted a few hours of entertainment out of that Izu-whatever woman. That’s good enough, isn’t it? Really Envy, you always fail to see the bright side of things._

Another, larger and much more annoyed part of himself tartly retorted he did _not_ like to see the bright side of things and that was it. He was aware, perhaps even more than his companions, that they had lost almost a week with their pointless errand and it irked him.

Dante could do so _much_ in just a week.

A visceral instinct kicked in, and Envy found he _needed_ to kill something. Squeeze the life out of something, preferably human, to desperately try and fill the gaping hole inside him, the miserable knowledge they could fail and everything would have been in vain.

He did not realize he had been growling out loud until he saw his blonde companions staring at him warily.

Then he shut his mouth and bit his lips until he pierced them with his fangs.

The rest of the train ride was spent in a terse silence, and the three of them were thankful their compartment was deserted.

* * *

They hadn’t seen him, but he knew the spirit of the armor could feel him. He knew, because ever since he started tailing them, he had started cooking more than necessary and always found a way to leave the remains of the food behind. Not to rot, but to sustain a heartbroken Homunculus that had tried to kill him once.

Wrath wondered why he felt like crying every time he drank the cold soup that was left behind.

He watched them, as he had promised, because he had promised. He moved silently and stalked them as they made their way through the countryside. They were an odd pair, so ridiculously different it should be _stupid_ for them to be together, but at the same time, so… _so there_. He wondered if they knew it themselves.

_Enjoy the taste._

For some reason, a little flight of fancy, an instant of insanity, he had gone and searched for his mother. His _real_ mother, who didn’t really care about him and who only wanted him gone. Instead, he had found _him_ , who had been strong, who had _never_ been there. Envy had given him a name, a purpose. He had fed him red stones and smiled that eerie smile that made humans cower.

And even after Wrath had turned his back on him, leaving him alone with Dante, he had welcomed him.

His Master had told him he had died. That he had been killed for being disobedient, for being unfit. _Let it be a warning_ , the old woman had said, her eyes cold and unforgiving, _I do not tolerate weakness_.

But Envy wasn’t weak. He was stronger and older and _wiser_. He was the first of them, Sloth had told him so, the one who fed others and chose the Sins. The one who had named him.

_Enjoy the taste._

Envy had hugged him when he had needed it and had not even known he did.

_I will_ , he vowed, in the silence of his own mind, watching as the Ishbalan shrugged off a comment from his companion, _I will enjoy the taste of humanity and fear and love and longing. I promise Envy, I will._

He smiled ruefully as he looked at his mismatched hands.

_And then I’m going to let it go, but it won’t matter, because it was_ mine _, if only for a while._

* * *

They didn’t stop in Central. They could have, of course, as Envy knew where Dante was, but he didn’t say anything and merely pressed their need to retrieve the old notes from the mountain trail. They could face Dante, but Envy just _knew_ she had shed her old body again, and she would be _strong_ while the transfer was still fresh.

No, they needed to go to Nauru, and retrieve his past so they could push her into weakness. Edward needed the notes to make the array, or at least understand what he was required to do, and Dante needed to fall into despair so that she would grow careless and they could strike.

“Is it ever worth it?”

He turned to face Hawkeye, whose voice had broken the silence spell in the small compartment of the train. Below him, Edward slept, dreaming of his brother and the life they had not had.

Envy allowed himself a moment to look at her, _really_ look at her. Her thin lips, always pressed together in a frown or a scowl, her sharp eyes, glinting with so much and betraying so little. All her features were strict, all angles and hard lines, like her own character. He studied her with scrutiny, not bothering to hide the fact he was doing so, looking past her to see _her_. Her blind faith in her commanding officer, her fierce loyalty to those she cared about, her temper, so fiery it _froze_ everything around her. The amused glint in her eyes when he mocked her, the smug smirk that curled her lips as she shot him.

He shrugged.

“Perhaps,” He was old, old enough to know it wasn’t worth it, that living only lead to dying and that humans existed only to be forgotten, “Ask me again, after this is over.”

She smiled, an insignificantly small smile, and nodded. Envy wondered how long it would take her to be broken, and amused himself with the thought for the rest of their ride.

* * *

Führer King Bradley looked outside the window with a light frown. Roy Mustang was growing more and more… _annoying_ as time went on. His constant meddling with affairs he had no business with were becoming problematic and his public support for the Fullmetal Alchemist – another issue to deal with, since people actually _loved_ the brat – was unraveling certain plots that had the Brass becoming more and more suspicious.

Roy Mustang was a complication.

Now, Bradley was willing to admit he generally enjoyed complications, since they tended to spice up a situation, but he preferred it when _he_ was the complication to someone else’s schemes. Of course, he could deal with everything they tried to put against him, but unlike Envy – dishonorable and ill-mannered _brat_ – he could appreciate the beauty of a devious plot unfolding according to plan. He was not prone to those ‘boredom’ crisis the older Homunculus was known for and which generally ended up in a country, city, state or kingdom being reduced to ashes.

Bradley found that terribly uncouth.

Frowning slightly, he finally shrugged away his thoughts. Things in Lior were shaping up nicely, and though he was mildly disappointed at having lost his secretary, he figured it was for the best. He could always get another one anyway.

And besides, Mustang might be a complication, but he would be… _sorted out_ soon enough.

The Führer smiled.

* * *

Ed decided, after the eighteenth time his automail leg sunk into the snowed path, that he hated winter, mountains and all related paraphernalia. When he was a child, he remembered the snowy postcards and the letters that came in by the end of the year, celebrating the solstice, decorated with merry pictures of snowed cabins and mountains. None of them, however, mentioned it was _cold_ when it snowed that much. He spared a second to glare resentfully at Hawkeye, who didn’t seem to be minding the weather much, and at Envy, who frankly was just an annoying bastard and who probably didn’t even _feel_ the chill.

If feeling ones bones _freezing_ counted as a ‘chill’, of course.

Unaware of, or perhaps choosing to ignore Ed’s dark thoughts, the green haired Homunculus tried to pace down enough for his human companions to catch up with him. The fact they were going a tenth slower than he could, if he were alone, was not helping him get over his dark mood. Not that he had what others would call a good mood, per se, but at least the comforting boredom was better than the inner bristling of annoyance that was slowly degenerating into anger or the customary bloodlust that was very slowly grinding his nerves raw.

He still hadn’t killed anything.

For her part, Hawkeye used all those skills military training had supposedly taught her to survive… and found them lacking. Ishbal had been nearly a desert, so all her field experience in the matter of snowed mountains was limited to those few occasions when her father would take them away to a little cabin for the winter holidays. She was starting to believe she hadn’t known the true meaning of the word ‘cold’. A glance to the lithe body ahead of her made her shiver under the thick fur coat. Envy was still wearing those flimsy clothes that were very obviously not designed for cold weather. The most unkind part of her mind, which she affectionably called her inner Mustang, threw a few snide comments that were better left ignored.

Hawkeye felt the need to shoot something rising.

It had been three days from Central to Kravioto, the last point the rails reached at the north, even beyond North City. From there, they had taken a car and Hawkeye had drove them for a day, as far as she could into the mountains, before they grudgingly accepted they were going to climb by foot. It had been tense and restless days in the train and in the car, because Envy’s mood seemed to become darker and darker, and his self imposed silence broke far more frequently, in burst of insults and tongue lashings that occasionally even made Ed flinch. He was a master of hitting sore spots, he made his verbal attacks with the same accuracy he moved while fighting, like a viper, fast and furious and just not stopping until he had Ed backed against a corner, trembling and unsure of what he had done wrong or how to turn the tables and retort something, _anything_. Envy never yelled at him, never screamed or made a tantrum. He hissed his words, measured and poisonous, delivered them with the same disgusted sneer he did everything else, as if they were insignificant bits of _nothing_ that were under the _ridiculous_ notion they could do anything against him.

And they _were_ insignificant.

Hawkeye couldn’t really know, at least not exactly, how old was the monster they were, perhaps foolishly, following. She didn’t know what his deal with Edward was, what he would gain for his hand in the mess they had gotten themselves into. She didn’t know his name, his _real_ name, or his face, his _real_ face. She didn’t know many things, and that frightened her. She was the one who always knew, always found out things and figured it out before anyone else. She was the one who saw what others didn’t, the details that made up the world around them. But for the first time in her life, details weren’t enough. What did it matter that she knew the Homunculus couldn’t live without chocolate? What did it matter that he hated yellow and liked green? What did it matter that he preached his hatred for dogs, but petted Black Hayate when he thought she was asleep?

What did it matter, he was a murderer anyway.

He had killed Hughes cruelly. He had used his tricks and just _killed_ him. He had taken him away, forever, with the same ease he killed the line of ants on the window of her kitchen when he had nothing else to do. Intellectually, she knew what a Homunculus was, a human but not. Soulless. But he didn’t _look_ like it. He had said he didn’t feel things like she did, that he didn’t need them, but she had _seen_ , she had spied on a small girl giggling around a mass murderer – her _father’s_ murderer – and poking and twisting, while he merely sighed in mild irritation and shrugged, letting her be.

That was really the crux of the issue. Envy just… _shrugged_ things off. Even after their fool’s errand in Dublith, he had been irritated, but he’d just… moved forward.

Hawkeye didn’t want to think about how many years it had taken him to get that ‘oh well, better luck next time’ attitude. How many ‘next times’ he had gotten.

In that second of realization, Hawkeye understood.

Envy was a monster.

“Move it, Pipsqueak,” Came the irritated yell over the howling winds, “We need to cover two more miles today.”

_“What?”_ Edward sped up to catch up with him.

Envy looked pathetic, really, wearing his usual black attire, covered in small snowflakes that fixed on his hair and stood out against his clothing. His feet, barely covered in those ridiculous black... sock things, Hawkeye thought in exasperation, giving no protection against the slippery cold floor. He didn’t seem to mind it, though, by the way he was wiggling his toes against the snowed rocks. He rested a hand on his hip, twisting his body in a strangely feminine way but not, and arched an eyebrow as Ed exploded.

“We’ve been walking for _hours_! What do you mean two more miles?”

“Unless you fancy sleeping in the middle of a blizzard,” Came the sneering reply, and Hawkeye saw Ed flinch minutely, “I suggest you invest some time _moving_ rather than dragging your weight as if you were an _invalid_.”

Inside, Hawkeye cringed, outside, she merely sighed and tried to remain impassive as Ed howled and launched himself against Envy. Who really did nothing but stand there and let the younger – _so much younger_ – boy hit him with all his bottled up fury. In a distant corner of her mind, the tall blonde remembered her father doing something of the sort to a young dark haired boy who wanted to be an alchemist. _Catharsis_ , her father had said with a wry smile, _is the art of turning something utterly negative into a strong positive force._

She didn’t see anything positive in what Ed was doing, of course, except getting warm, but perhaps that was what Envy wanted. Or perhaps he wanted Ed to fall, exhausted, face first against the snowed path so he could drag him away by his automail leg. It didn’t seem the most comfortable way to travel, she decided, but they were going faster, and the Sin didn’t seem to strain himself to pull the unresisting body. The few marks that Ed’s beating had left were almost completely gone, too.

One thing was for certain, wherever the Homunculus was taking them to, it was going to be a long journey.

Ed groaned.

* * *

“Alright,” Alphonse sat on the opposite bed, making the springs protest loudly. Scar raised an eyebrow at the cheerful tone, “Take off your shirt.”

Spluttering in surprise, he fell of _his_ bed, landing on the floor in an undignified heap.

_“What?”_

It had _not_ been a squeak, the Ishbalan told himself as he picked himself off the floor, feeling his face heat up slightly. When he dared to look at the suit of armor, he could swear it was raising an eyebrow at him.

“I need to look at your arm, remember?” The boy said almost sardonically, and Scar felt his face melting into an embarrassed scowl, “That’s my half of the bargain, right?”

“Yes.”

His face fell back into an unreadable mask once more, as he undressed and sat back, almost bored expression on his face. He didn’t shiver when a large hand held his wrist and lead his arm up, even though he wanted to, and began chanting a hymn to Ishbala in his mind, trying not to pay attention to what Alphonse was doing.

_Blessed is the man who doesn't walk in the counsel of the wicked, nor stand in the way of sinners, nor sit in the seat of scoffers; but his delight is in Ishbala’s law; on her law he meditates day and night._

When the helmet moved closer, he changed tactics, and began chanting it _backwards_.

_Righteous the of congregation the in sinners nor, judgment the in stand not shall wicked the therefore. Away drives wind the which chaff the like are but, so not are wicked the. Prosper shall does he whatever. Wither not does also leaf whose, season its in fruit its forth brings that, water of streams the by planted tree a like be will he._

Two fingers, very rough, leather fingers touched his arm.

_For Ishbala knows the way of the righteous.. but… but... the way of the wicked.. wicked… shall perish… perish… the wicked shall perish…_

Scar forgot to breath.

No one had ever touched his arm. At least not like _that_ , though he wasn’t really sure what _that_ meant. Sure, he touched his arm when he cleaned himself, or when he got hurt, which wasn’t often. But when others had dared to touch his arm, it had been with disgust or fear. Alphonse did it tenderly, gently, as if he could hurt him. Part of Scar wanted to scoff at the gesture, really, he was no child, he _could_ be harmed, of course, but he wasn’t going to sit down and cry about it. But another, traitorous part of him whispered about how _nice_ it was to have someone around, who wasn’t afraid and who treated him like a human being, even if he was a sinner.

Scar didn’t want to clarify _who_ the sinner was.

“Hm,” The Ishbalan had the silly notion that if Alphonse could, he would be frowning, pensive, “It’s a very complicated array, beautiful, but complicated.”

“Hn,” Scar looked at his arm with a little tint of curiosity.

He had never really taken the time to _look_ at it, mostly, he just used it when he needed and then pretended it wasn’t there the rest of the time. The lines were swirling and almost decorative, but Scar had always hated them because of what they represented.

“Why do you think it’s beautiful?” He dared to ask, voice rumbling lowly as, oblivious to the strange stirrings within him, the boy traced his fingers over the marks.

“Because whoever made this knew what they were creating, the price they would pay,” Glowing eyes looked at him, _past_ him and straight into _him_ , “This was made by someone who loved strongly enough to risk everything. There’s no beauty like a love like that.”

Scar felt the need to wrench his arm away and spit and hiss and tell him he knew _nothing_. Instead, he remembered his brother’s sad, little smile moments before he died, and nodded mutely.

Truly, love was beautiful, and he couldn’t deny that.

* * *

“And now, I suppose I have to save his fucking ass.”

Envy hissed in annoyance, stalking purposely past the wide eyed Hawkeye and towards the hole in the ice. Sighing irritably, he jumped into the freezing water. Unsure of what to do, the blonde Lieutenant waited, watching the ice with a worried expression. Moments dragged like hours, until there was a loud crack behind her. Whirling, she saw a familiar hand push through the thicker ice, then pull back and strike again. After a moment, the hole was large enough for Envy to surface, a thunderous scowl on his face, dragging a pale Ed by his clothes.

“The ice is thin, I said,” The Homunculus was muttering darkly, even as he handled the smaller teen to Hawkeye, pushing him out of the frozen lake, “But does he listen? No, of course not.”

Envy pulled himself out of the water, shaking his head slightly and swinging his arms to get the numbness of the cold out of them. He huffed in annoyance.

“Edward?” Hawkeye ignored the inhuman as she pressed her fingers to the Alchemist’s neck, and sighed a bit when she felt a pulse under her fingertips, “Edward, can you hear me?”

Envy looked over her shoulder, taking in the drenched teen, the shallow skin and the blue lips. He sighed again, running a hand over his hair in aggravation.

“Let’s go back to the cave,” Snorting, he leaned in to grab Ed’s automail leg, and began dragging the unresisting body away, “There goes another day wasted.”

Frowning, Hawkeye decided the Homunculus was probably right, and stood up to follow his faster steps. She only flinched a little every time Ed’s head bounced against the snowed land, but bit back her comments. The blonde _had_ been warned about the ice, after all.

After a day stop in the last village, two days before, they had been following Envy’s lead mostly blindly. He pushed them on every day, sneering at their ‘human weakness’ as he called it, yet he always showed them proper shelter in caves neither Hawkeye or Ed would have been able to find alone. Ed’s limited patience was stomped upon until he found himself racing with the Homunculus, fastening their steps through the mountain slopes. The inhuman didn’t seem particularly interested in them, outside hurrying them everyday and being snide, but he seemed to grow more and more irritable as each day passed. He didn’t eat anything out of their restricted provisions and Hawkeye had the sinking suspicion he wasn’t even sleeping at all.

The blonde woman took a moment to wonder what would be so terrible, that an immortal as cynical and self-centered as Envy would feel threatened enough to ask for human help.

* * *

Major Armstrong was a man of honor. He truly believed in justice and order, in protecting one’s nation and giving glory to the land of his ancestors. He was not in the military to earn money or glory or fame or power. He was in the military to bring honor to his family, to the memorable Armstrong heroes who had fought wars and who had willingly given their lives to make Amestris as powerful as it was.

He was a man, a true man in every sense of the word, and for that, he was hated in equal measure as he was admired.

When he received his orders, he reported to Mustang once before gathering his unit and start the slow trek to Lior. In the Flame Alchemist’s eyes, he had seen the answers to questions that weren’t voiced, a resignation to the unknown forces that conspired against them.

Major Armstrong knew, as he boarded the train, that even if they called it Lior… they meant Ishbal.

* * *

Suddenly, and rather unexpectedly, the weather changed. What had been days of snowed mountain cold and harsh winds, became a constant struggle against the heat, without even the slightless breeze to take their minds off the scorching sun above them, seeming closer to them with every step they took. Ed was now in a perpetually sour mood, though silent, since he couldn’t really muster the strength to talk. Envy was quiet too, not even bothering to insult their slow progress. Hawkeye thought he looked tired.

“Don’t move.”

Ed crashed against Envy when the Homunculus stopped abruptly, and blinked slowly as he tried to make sense of the words. He scowled.

“What?” The short Alchemist gave a step back as the green haired inhuman whirled around to glare irritably and frowned.

They were in the middle of nowhere, a strange plateau in between the mountains. They had no idea where they were heading, or how far off they were, or what exactly would they find once they arrived to their destination. Dark mist started to roll on the floor, coming seemingly out of earth itself, and a strange sulphuric scent arose from it.

“Don’t move, don’t talk, don’t breath if you can,” The Homunculus snapped as he glared at them, seemingly about to blow up his temper, “I’ll be back.”

And without anything else, he disappeared into the curtain of shadows that had risen around them. Ed blinked as Hawkeye tensed. Envy had not left their presence in almost three weeks, and his sudden leave made them edgy. Something was going on. The blonde Alchemist looked at his companion and opened his mouth to ask something-

But the sound died in his throat as a silhouette appeared in the mist, and Hawkeye became unimportant.

* * *

Riza was seriously contemplating the thought of emptying the sixteen bullet boxes she had with her on a certain green haired, grinning idiot as soon as she could. She was hot – _past_ hot and melting, actually – sweating as she had never before, feeling as if the sun was pressing right on her with each step she took. She wouldn’t complain, of course, because she was, after all, Riza Hawkeye, and she was usually the cause of the complaints, not otherwise. But she was tempted.

Especially after Envy had given up and _did_ cook one of their meals, if only to shut Edward up about him not doing anything at all.

A day of rations lost to the sticky grey… _thing_ the Homunculus had done.

Riza was certain she was going to have nightmares about that for days, weeks, years, _ever_.

Maybe Ed had the worse end of the deal, of course, since he was still suffering from the light cold he caught with his little expedition underneath that frozen lake. And how could that lake be frozen, anyway, with the heat they were enduring?

Riza sighed and stopped trying to map their location. With all those twists and turns, there was no way to honestly say _where_ they were. Only Envy knew… and that was even more disturbing to contemplate. The Sin was unpredictable at best, going from the almost endearing murderous urge to be snide, to a ballistic mass of violence looking for an outlet. Hawkeye had spent a good deal of their trip trying to figure him out. Simply put, he was a big puzzle, and Riza loved putting things together, even if she didn’t have all the pieces at hand.

And now Envy had gone to only he knew where, effectively leaving them lost in the middle of nowhere.

_Bastard._

The not-nice part of her mind declared, in a fair imitation of Ed’s generic war cry against Roy. Hawkeye amused herself with the mental image for a moment, looking at the strange mist gathering around them. She heard Ed’s footsteps as he came closer and she turned to him, except-

Except it was not Edward standing in front of her.

Her breathing caught in her throat and her eyes widened.

“’Ello darling.”

Her voice died in her throat.

* * *

“Don’t!”

Scar faltered, and the fierce creature managed to hit him for it. The chimera growled and spit as she prepared to strike him down, baring her fangs threateningly. There was a loud rattle of metal as his armor companion tackled his opponent, and Scar could only stare at him as he moved his obscenely large body with a startling ease. Feeling overpowered, the strange creature that had attacked them snarled once more at them, before running away, soon getting lost in the distance.

“She was not a State Alchemist,” Scar scowled as he stood up, eyes narrowed, “Are chimeras part of our deal now, or should I understand you wish me to stand back and be killed defenselessly?”

The glowing eyes fixed on him for a long moment, and the Ishbalan began to regret his words, feeling the slow dripping of guilt echoing in the back of his mind as the armor seemed to smile sadly.

“What did she do to you?” Al’s voice was somber, not scolding and that, Scar, decided, was worse. He merely asked for his justification, which was slowly turning ridiculous even to his own ears, “Who did she kill? What offence that only death could compensate it?”

“She’s a monster.”

Al shook his head, but said nothing, making the red eyed man feel the need to _scream_.

“I see.”

The rest of the day was spent in silence. Alphonse was strangely distant and Scar was too busy convincing himself of his reasons and his motives to try and instigate conversation. He didn’t care what the young soul trapped within the armor thought. Really.

“You said you were only punishing sins,” The soft voice brought him back to himself, and Scar realized the moon was up in the sky already, “But what good is to kill the sinner? That would only prevent them from repenting.”

Scar found himself staring in silent awe as the metal body twisted around to set their, _his_ dinner. Alphonse spoke as if it was nothing really important, with a shade of innocence that Scar couldn’t really feel.

“You don’t understand,” His voice was gruff, stubborn.

“No, I don’t,” The bowl of stew was placed before him almost humbly. He could swear the boy was smiling.

“And I don’t want to.”

* * *

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine my dear, it _will_.”

Ed whimpered. This wasn’t Sloth. Sloth was gone, Sloth was _dead_. But this… _thing_ was… it _was_ …

His left foot felt the ground under it crumbling, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t even _breath_.

_“Please.”_

The breathy plea got lost in the silence as the wicked woman smiled sweetly at him.

“It’s alright, it’ll all be over soon.”

* * *

“You’re not real,” Hawkeye gave another step back when the apparition before her gave one forward, “You’re dead, _dead_.”

“Now, darling, that’s not something nice to say,” He – _it_ – grinned almost kindly, “That’s not the proper thing on a situation like this,” His mild scolding sent shivers up and down her spine, and Hawkeye noticed with a hysterical hilarity that her hands were shaking, “Especially when we’re so _close_!”

“Step back or I’ll shoot,” Her voice tried to harden, but there was an unforgiving lump in her throat, “Stand back!”

“Sure,” He spread his arms wide, the blades glinting tauntingly, “Just like you did last time?”

* * *

Earth rumbled slightly as a wave of light crashed over them, shattering the illusion as the ghosts that were tormenting them evaporated and the fog lift immediately.

Ed and Hawkeye found themselves standing at the very edges of a thin rock bridge that hadn’t been there three seconds ago. Below, they could see the sharp spikes and the rotting remains of what appeared to be men. The mist disappeared almost completely and a dreadful stench of _death_ settled on their suddenly clear senses.

“I see you have been busy.”

At the other end of the bridge stood Envy. His eyes were fixed on a high niche in the rocky mountain side, where the light was concentrating. Ed swallowed hard and tried to forget about the horrible encounter, already walking to where the Sin was. Hawkeye took a moment to shiver, before tightening her hold on the gun.

A body fell off the niche, crashing on the unforgiving hard rocks dryly. Envy continued to watch, impassive, as the woman stood slowly. As they approached her, her features became clearer. Ed and Riza stared. Her hair was messily unkept, her clothing torn. Dark purple eyes stared at them blankly, lightly shaded by unruly light brown hair, her mouth opened barely.

The Oroborus on her forehead gave her nature away.

“May I introduce you to your tormentor?” Envy smirked, arching an eyebrow as the younger Homunculus trembled slightly, “The Ultimate Illusionist, Pride.”

Ed bared his teeth unconsciously, eyes darkening with something that promised violence. Hawkeye, for her part, narrowed her eyes dangerously, and tightened her hold on her gun.

“I hate you,” Pride closed her eyes shut, fisting her hands at her sides as her whole body trembled, “I _hate_ you!” Envy sidestepped the attack, not perturbed in the slightless, “Just _do_ it already!”

“I thought you liked living?” Envy laughed harshly as he continued to avoid her weakening attacks, “That’s why you’re here, after all.”

“Arg!” Spitting a bit of dirt, the younger Sin glared over her shoulder, dark eyes narrowed dangerously, “What do you _want_?”

“I’m not entirely sure I’m in the mood for a meal,” Envy clicked his thumb’s fingernail with his middle finger’s, looking particularly bored, “Especially not such a feisty one.”

“For fuck’s sake! Do I have to shove myself down your throat?”

Ed turned a decidedly unpleasant green color, Envy thought after a moment, before shrugging. Hawkeye cautionously allowed her gun to be lowered, when it was obvious the youngest Homunculus was no threat.

At least to them.

“Please refrain from it,” Envy grinned, teeth showing, “Find us a little shelter for tonight, so these two won’t freeze to death, and we’ll finish this conversation in private.”

“I swear to God,” Pride groused in annoyance, “If you don’t, _I_ ’m going to eat _you_ ,” Envy arched an eyebrow, mocking, “It’s been nearly a hundred years, goddamnit, what do you think I did all this time?”

“Pick your nose?” Envy shrugged, “Well, I’m feeling rather magnanimous after all, imagine what it’d be like, for almost _half a millennia_.”

His voice held a snide undertone and Ed flinched at it, but remained silent. He had no desire to provoke another show of ghosts to torture them. For her part, Hawkeye wondered at the bitterness in the tone, and the twisted meaning under the words.

Another thing to add to the increasing list of things she didn’t know about the Homunculus.

“You know what? Fuck you!”

Pride stomped away, all bristling anger and bottled up annoyance and Envy followed her at a leisurely pace, every line of his body screaming amusement. Sharing a moment of perplexed silence, Hawkeye arched an eyebrow. But Ed just shrugged and both were on their way, following the mismatched pair of immortals ahead.

The blonde Lieutenant spared a thought for her Colonel, their office and the chaos that was surely unfolding back home.

Then decided, quite selfishly, that at least here, she was away from that disaster.

She told herself to shut up, and followed along in silence.

* * *

“So this is it.”

Envy arched an eyebrow as Pride swung her feet childishly from the edge of the bridge. Under them, the vast line of rotting corpses unfolded, all which had fallen prey to the Illusionist.

“What you have been moaning and bitching about?” The shape shifter smirked, “Yes.”

“Am I really going to die?” She sounded awed, much more than a Homunculus should, “For real, this time?”

“Can’t tell you, since I haven’t done it myself.”

“You’re a bastard,” The younger Sin groused darkly, looking up at him with a glare.

“That,” Envy walked over to the edge, hands at his back, “I am, but I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

“How do you do it?” There was a certain respect in Pride’s question, “Not give in to the cravings. The bloodlust, the need to _tear_ , it nearly drove me insane.”

“Oh, that’s the thing,” He knelt behind her, and she flinched when his hand wound into her short hair, “You need to let it run its course.”

“Oh?” Arching her neck when he tightened his hold on her, Pride smiled almost wryly, “Do tell.”

“You let it grow and grow,” Envy’s eyes glinted wickedly in the darkness, his hair swinging softly in the breeze, “And it reaches a point where it just _snaps_.”

Pride hissed when he broke her neck. Her eyes were unfocused and her mouth went slack.

“And when you’re wallowing in the depths of insanity,” The shape shifter smiled, baring his teeth to her as his free hand turned into a claw, “It all suddenly makes sense.”

There was a horrible shriek into the night and a foretelling red glow.

In the relative safety of his bedroll, Ed shuddered and curled tightly, trying to ignore it.

“It all makes sense,” Envy sneered down at the dissolving mess of what little remained of Pride, smiling grimly.

“So she didn’t need to shove herself into your mouth after all.”

Whirling around, and trying to hide his sudden unbalanced state, the Sin smirked knowingly at the scowling woman.

“No,” Envy staggered back to the cave, his trademark smirk in place. As he passed by Hawkeye, he whispered almost to her ear, “But perhaps you will?”

She made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat, and the safety in her gun clicked unlocked. Envy laughed all the way back to his own little corner in their shelter, and amused himself with the glare Hawkeye gave him until he fell unconscious.

Above them, the moon waned.

* * *

“That’s not good.”

Scar looked up from his silent contemplations and nearly hit Alphonse. Hissing a bit where he touched the overheated metal, he narrowed his eyes and looked around the suit of armor. He frowned. In the distance, he could make out dark shapes against the golden sands. They moved directly towards them, attracted by the glinting metal of Alphonse’s body. Fast, efficient… _deadly_.

“Desert rats.”

The Ishbalan grimaced. With his luck, Alphonse would invite the thieves some tea and cookies. He snarled inwardly, his companion’s kindness could be a balm against the world, but Scar was aware others would see it as weakness and exploit it as such.

He was rather surprised when the gentle metal giant delivered the first blow against their attackers.

It was a good one too, it raised a considerable amount of sand as the metal rattled against the shifting floor. The team of thieves, four, were armed and riding an old and battered jeep. The way Alphonse moved forced the sand upon them in such a way the car became useless. Scar noted, with mixed feelings, that there was no Alchemy propelling the rather artistic display of skill.  
He moved fluidly, with much more speed and gracefulness that someone his size should have. He was being shot, but the bullets made little to no damage, and yet, even as their attackers were fierce, Scar could tell Alphonse was exercising a master self control to inflict only a certain level of damage.

The Ishbalan hissed when the leader of the band kicked him. His rib, which had just recently recovered, and the wounds he had acquired when Alphonse first joined him protested at the strain, but when he managed to get a hold of the elusive bastard that was trying to kill him, it was his left hand that crushed his wrist.

The smile he could read – and he didn’t give a rat’s ass about _when_ he had learn to read it – in the glowing eyes was worth the screech of indignation from the voices within his arm, frustrated that they had not been allowed their outlet.

Scar smiled very, very faintly.

* * *

_“Walk twenty days, to the northwest. Straight, no matter what you find, climb, run, swim. Twenty days, straight to the northwest,”_ Edward stopped abruptly, staring at Envy wide eyed. The Sin arched an eyebrow, lips twisting into a wide mocking grin as he continued retelling the old story, _“And when you find the peaks, high above the land of men…”_

He looked almost expectantly at the blond Alchemist, distantly noting Hawkeye blinking, bewildered.

_“…you will find the reign of immortality,”_ Ed breathed the sentence quietly, limbs trembling slightly, “Nauru.”

“I knew the old man would tell you that story,” Envy smiled almost gently, dark eyes amused as he perched precariously from the stone wall, “It _is_ his favorite after all.”

“How-“ The Fullmetal Alchemist sobered considerably, “You knew my father.”

“More than I care to, actually,” Envy bared his teeth, “He’s a fucking bastard through and through,” Slitted purple eyes glinted dangerously, “It runs in the family, I guess.”

Their slow trek restarted, Envy moving even more lazily, limbs stretched in a careless fashion, while a new unstoppable force seemed to propel Edward forward. A little bit behind them, Riza Hawkeye wondered why again had she landed in between their quarrel.

For the umpteenth time in that particular day, the blonde Lieutenant sighed.

“You’re taking us to Nauru,” Ed said after a while, not trace of questioning in his voice, “Why?”

“Because.”

The short blonde thinned his lips in annoyance and sped up his pace to catch up with the Homunculus. Envy remained impassive.

“There are hundreds of places to hide stuff in. Did you have to choose a freakin’ mountain to do it?” Ed rolled his eyes, “Just like you to pick the most difficult just for the sake of being annoying.”

“Shut the fuck up and _move_ ,” Envy snarled at the last part, baring his teeth in warning.

“Some of us aren’t fucking _dead_ -“

Ed’s snide remark ended abruptly, and the next thing he knew, was that he was on his back and his jaw hurt. Envy stared fascinated at him, seemingly as surprised as the blonde was, his arm still outstretched in attack. Golden and violet met for a second, and then Envy winced as the sound of gunfire echoed in the lonesome peaks. He whirled around to glare at Hawkeye, whose hand was trembling ever so slightly as she held her gun with white knuckles.

The homunculus bared his teeth feraly, looking like an animal, before he turned and began climbing twice as fast.

Once the silence fell upon them again, oppressive and immutable, Envy had healed himself and Edward was following with harsh steps, strangely subdued. Hawkeye walked numbly after them, gun still at hand, and continuously shifting her eyes from one figure to another, trying in vain to grasp the depths of their arrangement, the eerie connection Alchemist and Monster seemed to share.

“Tomorrow,” Envy said as the sun began to die in the distance, voice hard and icy, “We’ll reach the plateau.”

They were near a small cave they used for shelter, but aside a few words over dinner, they kept silent, even after the Homunculus left them.

There was nothing they could say.

* * *

_“You have failed me.”_

Envy closed his eyes tightly, desperately trying to force the memory away, to banish it somewhere, _anywhere_. It was his greatest curse, his greatest strength and his greatest weakness, to remember that which had happen and never forget. Never. Almost five hundred years cramped into his skull, thumping if he let them, demanding to be sorted out and relived, all over again.

_The manor was silent as Dante paced before her servants, and the scent of death still clung to him, the blood of that man still on his nose, his pathetic words still on his ears._

_“You have failed me,” The ancient woman repeated again, and almost casually placed a hand over a wooden box._

Hissing, Envy clawed at his temples, feeling frustration and hatred swelling within as the cacophony of memories rearranged themselves, allowing the picture to unfold perfectly in his mind.

_It was an ornate box, and something within him twisted as he recognized the feeling. Next to him, Lust and Sloth tensed while Gluttony watched their master curiously, not entirely comprehending what was going on._

_“I do not tolerate failure,” Dante tilted her chin upwards and fixed her eyes unnervingly on him, smiling pleasantly even as she clasped her hands together, condensing the light into a dark purple glow in one palm, before setting it over the oblong box, “I see I have to remind you of that fact.”_

Rocks crushed under his grip, and Envy resisted the urge to howl as the burning _wrath_ scorched his veins. She had dared… she had had the nerve…

_He stood as impassive as he could, fixing his eyes on her as the wood dissolve and the bones within the box were slowly reduced to nothing but dust. Lust and Sloth tensed at the show of alchemy, not understanding completely, but aware of the threat. Gluttony grasped Lust’s arm tightly, and he felt the strange urge to scream._

She had dared to take away his last and only hope.

_“I will not allow you to fail me again,” Her eyes, wicked monster eyes fixed on the mess that remained on the table, and gently removed one shard of bone, the only intact part that remained from the carefully preserved skeleton. She raised it so he could see it, see his last chance of Peace at the hands of his Master, his Owner. Dante smiled, “Never again.”_

She had damned him to eternity, right before taking the last thing he had cared about.

_Lust writhing on the floor, slowly dissolving into a wrenching mass of screeching nothingness that made his stomach clench. He had killed his own kind before, he had fed from them before… but he had never cared, because they were not… not… because they had never understood._

Envy felt the stones within him pulse, feeding with his anger, his _hatred_ , the need to kill her, him, _them_ and be done with it.

He never noticed the horrified brown eyes that watched him with a morbid fascination as he methodically tore the skin off his bones, again and again and again, hating himself for healing each wound.

He didn’t even feel the pain anymore, and it sent him deeper into his own private bubble of self destruction.

When he finally allowed himself to stop, he fell slack against the stone wall, stifling an anguished cry before submitting to the depths of darkness. Exhausted by their journey and the stress and the bloodlust that was _demanding_ him to consume everything around him, he welcomed the unconsciousness.

Hawkeye tried, as hard as she could, to conjure sleep, but the image of the tortured creature would not go away, and she awaited dawn with her memories and the haunting whimpers as her only company.

* * *

The plateau was wide, covered in inviting, lush grass that seemed impossible to be growing at the height they were and after all the harsh climate they had endured. The air was fresh, tingling with a mix of dew and sulphur, becoming a dazing drug that left them light headed. It was the beauty of nature broadcasted into a paradise hidden away from everything and everyone, but that was not what had the three of them, in varying degrees, enraptured.

The creatures soaring high in the cloudless sky were.

Their elegant lines, the wide wings and the delicately shaped heads. The powerful roars and the occasional bursts of flames, it all becoming a magnificent dance of power and _magic_ of the unknown, snaring their senses around _eternity_ made flesh and scales and wings.

Envy smiled thinly, knowing what was coming, as one of the majestic reptiles landed before them with ease.

“You,” The eerie orange eyes fixed on him and the strangely melodic voice came out of nowhere as the dragon tilted his neck slightly, “Show yourself.”

Envy remained silent, staring at the giant creature that could smell his deceit with the same ease it could fly, and shrugged, smirking smugly.

“Suit yourself,” His voice was his own, for the first time in a very long while, rumbling and without a trace of the characteristic effeminate tone he had given himself.

He was aware of the widening eyes that fixed on him as the light gathered at his feet, and the knowledge that they would see made his stomach wrench, but he controlled himself. He didn’t close his eyes, staring almost accusingly at the demanding glare in the dragon’s eyes, blaming it silently for the degradating feeling of his past falling back on himself.

He felt his body rearrange itself, bones stretching and muscle defining itself as his whole appearance changed. He was taller, broader, definitely masculine in his hard lines and sharp edges. He was still wearing the dark brown pants he had wore when he had arrived at the plateau the first time, and the button up white shirt that felt contracting against his neck. The black coat swung behind him. The long strands of blonde hair were loosely held on a braid that reached his shoulder blades, random bangs escaping its hold as they framed a face that by all means would have been gentle if it hadn’t been sneering in distaste. Envy’s face was a strange mix of sharp lines and gentle curves, with eyes too expressive to be inhuman and a mouth that was naturally tilted into a smile.

It was a face of peace.

Despite the radical change in the Homunculus, the striking resemblance that was painful to contemplate, the _humanity_ behind it… all Ed could see where the color of the eyes, a striking green that shone with defiance as the dragon tilted its neck forward, taking a better look at Envy. Hawkeye struggled to reconcile the image before her with the smirking beast she had shot before, with the murderer of Hughes, with the monster.

“You have led a rather long life,” The dragon mused almost wryly, though its tone never changed, “To still be called a dying man.”

* * *

It happened in a second: a slippery rock, bad timing, stress, and Hawkeye suddenly found herself falling down the side of the rocky path. She gave out a muted cry as the floor suddenly disappeared under her feet, but a rather slim hand wrapped around her wrist.

Unamused, uncaring, _unnatural_ green eyes sneered down at her as Envy held her in the air with a frightening ease.

He could drop her to her death and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

Distantly, she heard Edward gasp in surprise.

Instead, he pulled harshly and she landed not too gently behind him. A little bruised and somewhat worse for wear… but essentially unharmed. Envy bared his teeth at her and at Edward, then continued the trek up to the rocky path, irritated and annoyed and still very much blonde. They followed the seething immortal across the plateau, towards the farthest rock wall. Above them, they heard the air being cut by dragon wings, roars echoing periodically around them. Envy trailed his fingers over the stone, feeling it under his skin, almost like a caress, before he turned to Edward, his face impassive.

“The chalk.” He arched an eyebrow as Edward snapped out of his staring, and snorted when the blonde struggled to find the bar in his bag.

When Edward placed the white stick in his hand, Envy smirked and his eyes – _unnatural green eyes_ – glinted with something they couldn’t understand. He turned to the smooth wall, and began tracing a complicated array. Lines and circles and marks, all mixing into something that reminded him painfully of the Xianese child that used to pester him around from time to time. When he was done, his smile was strangely sour and his arms hung listlessly at his sides.

_I’m sorry._

“Here,” Envy gave the shorter Alchemist a disdainful look, “Think you can use it, Pipsqueak?”

_It won’t be in vain._

“Yes,” Edward forgot how to be snide, enraptured by the complicated design, “Yes, I think I can.”

_Not your death, not my own._

Ed placed his hands over the smooth rock, feeling a strange warmth underneath his palms, picturing in his mind what the array was supposed to do.

_It’ll be over soon, but it won’t be in vain._

The wall shone in a blinding blue light.

_Xi Feng._

* * *

Lior was nothing like he remembered. The buildings looked run down and no one dared to come out of their hiding places. Scar moved confidently around the deserted streets, his steps determined and his mouth set into a hard line. Alphonse hurried after him, metal rattling loudly as he shuffled his feet. He had seen horrible things in his life, had _felt_ horrible things before being confined into a suit of armor, but this was _war_. War as he had never tasted before, close up and personal, mocking him with a sneer that would make Envy cry. This was pure cruelty and it made his insides twist, torn between anger and fear.

“The man who taught my brother,” Dark red eyes fixed on him, looking haunted, “They brought him here.”

“Could I…?” For an irrational moment, Alphonse felt like a monster for pushing the Ishbalan this close to his past, a past he understood rather well.

“I want you to talk to him,” Scar turned and reassumed his fast steps. It was clear he had a destination in mind, the way his feet carried him purposely through the apparently abandoned city, “Maybe he knows how we can stop this war.”

War.

Alphonse shivered as he nodded, unseen by his companion, and sped up somewhat. They had dodged many military settlements in their way to the city. Al wasn’t entirely sure, but he had a feeling he had seen Major Armstrong among the last unit they had rounded. That could only mean one thing. And it was not a pretty notion to consider.

He dearly hoped Envy and Edward would be fine… and that their little plan covered the disaster brewing in Lior.

* * *

It burned his palm.

He didn’t know why, but the small coin in his clenched hand felt like acid, eating through his skin slowly. The trek down the mountains was marginally easier and much faster, given _that_ side of the mountain was better fit to go down, than up. It was snowing though, and it made walking a hard task, even for him. But at least he was back on his own skin and Edward had been eerily silent since he took a glance at the parchments that had been buried under the rocks. Hawkeye was still staring at him, and it was _annoying_.

It had taken them exactly ten days to climb up the _goddamn_ mountain, but he hoped – and by this point he was surprised he still held the ability to hope – that it would only take them five to get to Kravioto and two more back in Central.

He would _kill_ the stupid pair of blonde humans if he had to, but they _would_ return to Central as soon as possible.

“Where is Mustang now?”

Hawkeye looked up from the thermos, blinking rapidly to clear her mind and frowned as she faced him. Exhausted, Edward slept on in his bedroll. Envy’s eyes held an unnerving light of _violence_ that made her shiver.

“Probably in Central,” She shrugged, “Though there was an investigation going on in a little town a few miles east of Central, some sightings of chimeras like the ones that attacked the Führer’s state.”

Envy frowned and sank into a contemplative silence. The blonde woman had learned to be wary of that particular expression. It was the quiet meditative state of a murderer planning his next strike, and on Envy’s face it was nothing short of frightening. The pensive Homunculus blinked and shook his head slightly, making the ridiculously colored bangs bounce around before he looked at her again.

“Who’s in charge of the HQ when Mustang is gone?” There was a calculative quality to his voice as he asked, sort of like a snake snaring a mouse, and Hawkeye hated him for it.

“Archer,” She sneered in distaste, not bothering to hide her dislike for the man, “Unless he’s been moved to Lior already.”

“Hn,” Dark violet eyes fixed on the old box they had filled with the notes, lips thinning considerably, “I suggest you sleep, Lieutenant, unless you fancy being late to save your beloved Colonel from a fate worse than death.”

He was gone before she could finish choking on her drink.

Edward slept on, undisturbed.

* * *

When Hawkeye was gone, their little office became a riot. There was no voice of authority… well, _real_ authority, to put a stop to the conversation and threaten them at gunpoint to work. Generally, her absence – a rare and thus treasured thing – was a welcomed change of pace. Breda would stop sulking around and Havoc would trade toothpicks for cigarettes and the whole room would be filled with the bitter scent of tobacco burning as the hours passed by.

But this was different. Hawkeye was away because Al was gone, and it was disturbing and terrible and so _wrong,_ they couldn’t even enjoy their little ‘freedom’. Even Mustang was working on his own, signing papers with a gloom cloud around him as he tried to keep things running normally. There was an unspoken agreement to not ask what was going on, but speculation ran wild.

Havoc chewed the end of his cigarette as he watched the dark haired Alchemist scrawl something on a paper, adding a certain flourish to his signature as he finished the report. The frown became a perpetual sight on the Colonel’s brow, especially after he had been grilled by the higher ups about that mess in the Führer’s estate.

“Shit is gonna hit the fan soon, isn’t it?” He mused out loud, then smirked slightly as Roy jumped at the sound of his voice.

The Colonel blinked owlishly for a moment, then frowned as he set eyes on him. There was a long silence before the wry grin broke through the face, finally shattering the scowl, and Havoc found himself grinning back.

“Yes, it will,” He rolled his shoulders in a careless, almost casual shrug, “And we’re going to be standing right under it when it does.”

Havoc laughed all the way back to his desk, shaking his head in amusement. If Mustang could still crack a joke at their fucked up lives, then all would be well.

* * *

“This is not a good way to start the day.”

Hawkeye let her thermos roll on the floor, while Ed and Envy stared, almost in fascination, at each other.

It had started innocent enough, or rather, as innocent as anything that involved Envy could be. Hawkeye was up and going already and the green haired immortal had decided that it was time to wake Edward. He had not counted on the short blonde having a nightmare… or reacting that badly to the rough wake up call. Automail, the Homunculus decided, was not a pleasant thing. And what the hell was the brat waiting for to remove his goddamn arm anyway? A written invitation?

“ _Move_.”

Ed cringed at the fierce snarl and hastily pulled his hand back, turning slightly green at the sight of bone and flesh clinging to the metal and letting out a disturbing _‘pop’_ as he finally pulled his arm free. Envy sat back, teeth bared dangerously as the wound melted closed, looking as if he was clinging to the last remains of his patience.

And failing miserably.

“I…” The snarl got, if possible, larger and Ed shivered under the glare of the glowing purple eyes, “ _Sorry_ , alright? Didn’t mean to!”

“Hn.”

The Homunculus stalked away, a storm brewing over his head, and Edward had a moment to wonder what he had done to make the Gate smile over him, so that he had managed to get away with attacking _Envy_ and still remain relatively unharmed. He really hated fighting on an empty stomach.

“Here,” Hawkeye smiled slightly as she offered him some coffee, “We’ll reach the Colonel’s camp soon.”

“Yeah,” Edward shuddered, “And can you just imagine how _that_ is going to play out?”

They shared an almost conspiring look for a moment, smiling wryly, before they nodded.

Edward had never thought he would see Hawkeye as something else… something more like a friend and less like an officer. But he had to admit, trailing Envy across the mountains could change a lot of things. Going with the Homunculus without the quiet support of the older woman was unimaginable now, especially since he needed someone to talk to at night, to rant about the weather, the food, the _bastard_ , the _other_ bastard… Anything to keep his mind from hostile territory.

Like Al.

Or blonde apparitions that were eerily familiar.

Or running out of that seemingly unending source of luck and charm that had managed to save him, and fail. Fail miserably and terribly; making Al and Mustang and Hawkeye and Teacher and even Envy disappointed.

Edward knew that if he failed, Dante was going to make the world a burning hell.

“Are you done whining?”

Looking up, they saw Envy standing a few feet away, a hand casually perched on his hip in the characteristically effeminate pose, the almost diabolical grin in place as he arched an eyebrow. Edward thought, that for someone who had just been fatally wounded, he looked pretty well. He nodded even as Hawkeye frowned.

“Yes,” She placed her bag on her shoulder, the wide strap almost completely covering it. Her lips twisted almost mockingly into what could have been a sneer, “Lead the way.”

Envy rolled his eyes and turned on his heel, ignoring them as they walked closer to their objective.

In the distance, the marks of smoke rose over the tree lines, but the three travelers, weary and adrenaline high from their hasty adventure in the mountains, pretended not to notice.

* * *

“What _are_ those things?”

The inhumans were about forty, outnumbering the scouting patrol four to one – before they killed seven of them, literally tearing them apart. They groaned and screeched as they closed upon the small group, reaching out with skeletal, clawed hands. Havoc and Falman, who were in charge of the information gathering mission, were trying to force them away, but instead found themselves backing away from the undead menace.

Suddenly, from behind the mindless mass came a flash of light and a rumble of earth.

“Boss!” Havoc’s yell made Ed wave almost cheerfully, grinning a bit, “Alright! Reload!”

The surviving soldier who had been assigned for the mission grew excited as the Alchemist cut forward towards them, wielding his arm to fight the mindless beasts. The short blonde made his way through the crowd of... _things_ , first by creating a small earthquake to stun the beasts, then by slashing his way forward. He wasn’t aiming to kill, though, still _very_ unnerved by their human appereance. They _were_ mostly human, but their skin was shallow and their eyes blank. Their bodies thin down to bones, yet holding unnatural force in their pathetic forms. They couldn’t speak either, but for Ed, who had never killed anyone intentionally, it was enough to force him to pull back. They were fast, faster than they looked, vicious and without an ounce of compassion, staring blankly ahead as they prepared to kill.

“Having fun?” The Fullmetal called over to Havoc, who snorted, “Where’s everyone?”

“Back at camp,” Falman answered as Havoc let loose a round of fire against the groaning mass, “We were supposed to gather information, but…” He clicked his own gun, shooting as they slowly inched their way backwards, “We’ve lost seven men already.”

“Oh the _tragedy_ ,” Came the mocking voice. Ed glared up at Envy, who was perching lazily on a tree branch. The Homunculus smirked, “This is _war_ , pipsqueak, what were you expecting? Friendly pats on the back?”

“Where’s Hawkeye?” Ed growled, ignoring the taunting as he tried to help keep the inhumans away, but he didn’t have a gun, so he could only help by crumbling earth around them, not particularly sure of how to deal with the constricting mass of bodies.

“Sent her to camp, can’t risk the notes and all,” Envy sneered, “Anyway, you might want to know you’re surrounded.”

They were. Forced to a small circle around the tree Envy was perching on, Havoc and Falman, shared a look at the Homunculus’ careless presence, his almost familiar words with Ed… his lack of direct attack.

“Well, fucking _fix it_!” Ed snapped as Havoc swore; they were out of bullets.

“What am I? Your goddamn nanny?” The green haired inhuman watched as the circle got tighter, and snorted, “Oh fine, your corpse wouldn’t be useful anyway.”

With a theatrical sigh, he easily jumped from the tree, landing on an inhuman without a care. This called attention to him, and the attack on the soldiers halted for a second. When Envy broke the first neck and the creature dissolved into a splash of red water, the uproar of enraged beasts rose as they screeched loudly.

“Your problem, pipsqueak,” The Homunculus said almost conversationally, hands turned into claws and slashing through the lines of monsters with a disturbing ease, “Is that you don’t know how to kill things. See?” He tore a throat open, growing more and more satisfied with each victim, “Corpses are pretty darn harmless.”

He moved swiftly, avoiding the clawing and hissing of the inhuman and luring them away from the soldiers. He dodged the attacks almost gracefully, grinning madly all the while. Ed and company could only stare, morbidly enraptured by the bloodshed as the inhuman finally centered all their attention on the Homunculus. The puddle of red water grew, as the number of beasts decreased.

Envy was thrilled. He was _killing_! He was making live things dead – figuratively speaking, at least – tearing them with his bare hands as he loved the most. The tension of the hasty journey to the mountains, his brief encounter with the dragons and the uneasy truce with the midget all disappeared as he finally allowed himself his one true pleasure: Carnage. It was fun, bone crushing under his fingers, blood splattering on the floor; it was _poetry_. And at least the damn things were strong, stronger and faster than a human, much more of a challenge, something he could entertain himself with for more than two seconds.

In fact, they were enough of a challenge one of the damn things managed to pierce his chest with a hand. The huddled soldiers, who had been watching almost mystified, stared in horror at the clenching claw that came through the Homunculus’ front.

Envy blinked.

“That,” He said, with the air of someone who had been kicked in the shin, “hurt.”

With a growl of annoyance, he _yanked_ the hand, ripping it off from the inhuman behind him. Twisting around, he kicked the beast and sent it flying away. As the other monsters tried to close up around him, the Homunculus jumped away, a few yards back until he was standing on a rocky ledge, perching comfortably and _grinned_.

Ed decided he didn’t like that grin.

Envy placed a hand on the wound, feeling it heal under his fingers, then closed his eyes as he glowed and jumped. He was changing, but it was different. This time the light was brighter, larger. He wasn’t turning into something human.

“Oh _shit_ ,” Ed had a pretty good idea what was going to come out of the light, “Get down!”

Something green, scaly and definitely _not_ human poked out of the glow. Something _large_.

“What the-“

Havoc’s cigarette fell of his lips as the long rope of silken scales landed, large enough to crush a man with weight alone. Slowly, the rest of the creature unfolded before them, the elegant tilt of a long neck, the powerful muscles that seemed to twist under the scales. Envy unleashed his tail upon the floor, making it tremble, and _roared_. As he did, he revealed rows upon rows of sharp teeth and a rather disturbing sulphuric breath.

“This is a very good moment to turn back,” Ed said slowly, watching as the scales on the dragon’s neck lifted, sucking air inside, “And run for your _lives!_ ”

The Alchemist jumped behind some bushes, hands covering his head, and the soldiers mimiked him, seconds before Envy let loose his wrath. The second roar was muted by the scorching white flames that came out, reducing the mass of inhumans and a good portion of the forest – about a quarter of a mile from where Envy was – to a desert wasteland. A mere two inches separated Ed’s left foot from the line of devastation. Falman made a strangled sound in the back of his throat as Havoc blinked.

A piece of burnt wood fell off a nearby tree, becoming nothing as it hit the floor at Ed’s feet.

Then the blonde exploded.

“ _Are you out of your fucking mind!?_ ” He stomped up to the large reptile, bristling in anger as he waved his hands around.

Envy, who had laid down as if he had done a terrible workout, opened a large purple eye, bright and glinting like a jewel, to peer down at Ed. The blonde, unaware of Havoc’s nervousness or Falman getting paler by each second, continued to ramble on and on, insulting the Homunculus.

“ _-you… you FUCKER!_ ” Came the glorious end to the rant, and with a roll of his eyes, the serpentine creature raised.

He shook his body as a dog, scales clicking slightly before his back arched, _cracking_. He looked down at Ed as if to say _‘are you done now?’_. Golden and purple met in a dark glare, and a distant – suicidal – part of Havoc’s brain noticed how _ridiculous_ Edward looked next to the strange beast. Other, saner parts of his mind were much more interested in figuring out _when_ had Envy shifted onto their side… or at least, when he had stopped wanting to kill them.

“Well?” The Fullmetal, still irritated, groused darkly, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

Envy flared his nostrils harshly, throwing Ed off his feet and onto his ass on the dry land by the sheer force behind the puff of air. Then he gave them all the serpentine equivalent of a grin, and raised forward, taking off the ground as he glowed.

“ _ARG!_ ”

Ed threw his hands up in annoyance, all he could do to stop himself from tearing his hair out, and watched as the fluttering sparrow disappeared in the distance.

* * *

The campsite was… _tense_.

Of course, that would be like saying the ocean is wet or fire hot, but the principle was the same. Edward found he had the strange need to fidget as Mustang fixed him with a rather dark glare. Hawkeye was half hidden behind the flap of the central tent in the small settlement, her dark brown eyes glinting strangely as they scanned the four tired men that arrived. Her brow furrowed when there was no sign of a certain green haired shape shifter.

Ed suddenly wished dearly that he had Al to hide behind, then dismissed the notion as childish.

He noticed that the only stranger was the shaken soldier that walked shyly between Havoc and Falman. Breda and Fuery were standing by the sideways, apparently dealing with what would later become their dinner. Mustang’s eyes were narrowed, glinting with something that Edward had never seen before… at least not directed at himself.

“Fullmetal,” The Colonel’s voice was soft and velvety, a bad omen if Edward ever heard one, “So… _kind_ of you to join us.”

_Well shit, someone’s pissed off._

He didn’t have much time to ponder the situation or shot back a reply, though, as a man clad in dirty and run down military garb was suddenly thrown into the clearing. Mustang gave a thunderous step forward, eyes almost slitting as the pitiful man cowered and whimpered. He was thin, sickly so, with an unkept mop of dark grey hair on his head. He clawed insistently at the ground, shivering at unseen horrors.

And then, Envy arrived.

He walked at a leisure pace, grinning downright _playfully_ as he dealt the man another kick, sending his apparently weightless body flying a few meters closer to Mustang. Every line in his lithe body spoke of confidence and power, his breathing normal and his stand almost careless. Everyone on the clearing tensed as the man who had apparently invoked the Homunculus’ wrath whimpered again and struggled to get away. Several hands flew to guns, lips thinning in irritation.

A particular set of fingers was just _itching_ to snap.

“Now,” The Sin grinned almost pleasantly, “ _I_ don’t like fighting,” He studiously ignored Edward’s disbelieving snort and the tensing reactions around the soldiers, “And _you_ don’t like being disemboweled alive, so you answer the question and we’ll all be happy campers.”

The man snarled as the Homunculus drew closer. Edward moved consciously between Envy and the Colonel, silently praying the men would be smart enough to not interfere with a potentially homicidal Sin. His brain was spinning to find a way to save the man without causing a full out battle. When a seemingly fragile hand reached to grab the man’s neck, the ‘ _poor’_ soldier snarled in panic, throwing his jaw forward in a grotesque display of white teeth that were certainly not human.

Fuery made a strangled sound in the back of his throat.

“Feisty thing, aren’t you?” Envy raised an eyebrow, but his almost jovial tone hadn’t changed at all, “Alright then, get up. I love it when prey actually fights back,” There was the unnaturally _large_ grin again, “Entertain me a bit and your death won’t be so dull.”

Ed saw Hawkeye clench her hand on her gun, and bit back a snarl of his own.

Mustang was about to interfere when the chimera _howled_ and snapped against the Homunculus with inhuman speed. That, coupled with the fact that he had just received what looked like a severe, possibly lethal, beating, confirmed any remaining doubts. He was close, but not actually human. Envy twisted around, dodging the rather pitiful attempts on his person with practiced ease. It was almost mesmerizing to see a body in so much control, every tilt and curve aligned perfectly and with a purpose in mind.

The beast had no chance.

The Homunculus actually looked a bit bored, then faintly surprised as the skinny monster twisted around and ran straight at him, claws bared. He didn’t even wince when he pierced cleanly through his exposed belly.

There was an awkward silence as the monster panted heavily, and Ed blinked slowly.

“You know,” Dark purple eyes fixed on blank golden ones, an almost teasing smile pending from his lips, “Either I’m having the shittiest day in history, or there’s suddenly a karma pattern here.”

Ed snorted, though he looked sickly pale. Mustang’s brow furrowed in confusion, as his men shifted uncomfortably at the unexpected show of good mood in their – _former?_ – mortal enemy.

The hand on his stomach twitched slightly.

Then, of course, Envy ripped it off cleanly, the tearing sound of bone snapping and fleshing giving away echoing in the clearing. Fuery looked positively ill, while Ed looked away the macabre spectacle. Havoc grinded his teeth, hands twitching over his gun, as the poor misfortunate soldier that happened to land in their camp stared in horror at the seemingly invulnerable monster.

Holding the gasping creature with ease, Envy raised him – _it_ – up in the air, a hand tightly wrapped around his – _its, goddamnit, that was no man_ – throat. The struggle turned frantic as the free hand suddenly melted into a threatening claw. The Homunculus raised an eyebrow, the gaping hole in his torso almost completely closed already.

Again.

“Now,” He smiled again, almost gently, “Let’s start again, shall we?” The chimera tried to growl and its throat was ruthlessly crushed, “Where’s your Master?”

“I…” A few shuddering breaths and the creature – whose eyes, they could see now, where a sick pale lavender – glared murderously, “No Master! I be Master!”

“I see that idiot never fixed the neural issue, did he?” There was a certain clinical glint in Envy’s eyes, as if he were examining a very interesting experiment, rather than torturing a man – chimera, monster, whatever. His lips twisted into a smirk, “No Master, you say? And yet, look at you, a pitiful attempt at human transmutation, done all _wrong_ by the way, who can’t even string a sentence coherently.”

“Fuck you!” The beast apparently dislocated his jaw again, throwing the white teeth close to the Sin’s face, but the purple eyed immortal remained impassive, “She kill you.”

“Well, _that_ ’s certainly articulate,” Envy cracked the knuckles of his clawed hand almost promisingly, “Now, then, you won’t tell me where that pathetic bag of stinking _death_ is, fine,” He made a dismissing notion, as if he weren’t really interested in the information. The gesture made tension raise even more around the camp; the immortal was enjoying the situation far too much, “Tell me where Bradley is and I won’t rip you apart, piece by piece.”

At the mention of the Führer, the camp had gone eerily silent.

The thing struggled for a moment, but his wind pipe was almost crushed again. Envy held off from killing him by sheer need, though he did not show it. The stupid chimera was just too pathetic to be truly amusing. A couple more of tight squeezes to the delicate tissue and the beast was hanging limp from his hold, almost submissively.

“I’ll ask again, and you better answer this time, because my patience is fucking _gone_ ,” Throwing the chimera with a startling ease, as if it were nothing but a rag doll, Envy growled, “Where. Is. He.”

The creature whimpered again, inhuman eyes sliding around the men in the clearing, desperately hoping to find a chance of help. But when the Homunculus kicked it ruthlessly again, it seem to understand he was alone facing the immortal, and that he was not going to come out of it unscathered.

“Lior,” Envy kicked it, _hard_ , “Lior! Lior! Lior!” It struggled and whimpered and growled and _snarled_ , “Monster!”

“Well, yes,” Envy raised an eyebrow, grinning maliciously as he leant forward, face inches away from the dreadful jaws of the chimera, “But the only difference between you and me, is that I don’t bother pretending to be something I’m not.”

And then, he crushed the deceptively fragile neck, tearing the head off with a sickening ease. Shivers and shudders ran all over the soldiers, as Envy stared impassively at the dissolving mess of red water. The Homunculus smiled pleasantly at them, clicking two nails with non-challance.

“So,” His voice was annoyingly bright for someone who had just killed a man – chimera, monster, _whatever_ – so grossly, “What’s for dinner?”

* * *

The hut – because there was no way _that_ was a house – looked sort of abandoned and run down. The thin walls looked liked a breeze could blow them away, and the ceiling was holding itself together by forces Alphonse couldn’t really comprehend. Scar stared at it with a mix of hatred, resentment and unease. Eventually, the young boy that had guided them to the hut came out, looking strangely pale and shifting his eyes with a light of mistrust that had ignited ever since they had requested to see _‘the sinner’_.

“He will see you,” The boy fidgeted slightly, looking up at the tall man and the suit of armor warily, “Sister needs my help, so I-“

“We know the way back,” Scar told him with a certain acid to his voice, “You may go.”

The boy was gone before the words had fully left his lips. The Ishbalan shared a short glance of ill amusement with his silent companion, and received a rattling shrug in reply. Shuffling past the flap door, they found that the small hut had two rooms, separated by another flap. The floor was bare ground and the walls were decorated with alchemic designs similar to those on Scar’s arm. The white haired man stood stiffly on the center of the dusty room, glaring resentfully at everything around him, even when Alphonse leaned in to take a closer look at the arrays.

“Ah, I see,” Both jumped startled at the sound of the low, silbant voice, “The apple never falls to far off the tree.”

The old man smiled at them, noting with a certain amusement the way Scar turned defensive. Alphonse seemed slightly taken aback by the smug smirk.

“Or perhaps, in this instance, it should rather be its sibling?”

* * *

It was hard to concentrate on the seriousness of the situation, when it was so damn _unreal_.

Pretending to be absorbed by their dinner, Falman, Breda and Fuery ate silently by the fire, while Havoc and the surviving officer – Second Lieutenant Ralf Spravz – shared a smoke a bit further away. In the main tent, where all their equipment had been installed, there was _war_ going on, and they couldn’t _really_ ignore it.

Not when _Ed_ was being the quietest in that discussion.

“But _no_!" Mustang exploded, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. "Not only do I deal with the pointless war, Archer breathing down my neck, the pocket Alchemist of _disaster_ -" Ed reddened and narrowed his eyes as he hissed in warning, "-and a Lieutenant who _still_ wants me to sign forms!" He pointed accusingly at Envy, "No! Now I have to deal with a _fucking_ Homunculus who's apparently turned into a pacifist!"

"What!?" Said Homunculus growled, violet eyes narrowing dangerously as he snarled, baring his teeth in warning, "Come _here_ and I'll show you how much of a pacifist a Homunculus can be!"

Mustang snarled back while Ed, still sore about the comment on himself, snorted.

"Well," The blonde said dryly, crossing his arms over his chest, "Corpses are remarkably peaceful."

Envy whirled thirty degrees to center the full wrath of the deadly convention of glare and snarl on Edward. The blonde, always a quick study, answered with one of his own. Mustang, suddenly left out of the discussion all together as the power struggle escalated, glared at both.

“ _As it is_ ,” Hawkeye, the voice of reason in the heat of the battle, arched an eyebrow when her voice raised over the continuous growling, “I think it’s a good time for answers,” Dark brown eyes fixed on Envy calculative; she had their attention again, “What _are_ those things? Chimeras? Homunculi?”

“ _Please_ ,” The Sin waved a hand almost petulantly, “No. They are too delicately done to be chimeras, and too weak to be Homunculi,” The slitted eyes darkened with ill humor, “They are ingredients.”

Ed sucked a harsh breath and Mustang fell into an inscrutable silence. Hawkeye stared almost morbidly at the Sin.

“Perfectly calibrated ingredients to make a philosopher’s stone.”

A thick silence fell over them, only the slight chirp of the fire interrupting the shock that took over them.

“It _is_ war,” The Sin said, shrugging almost casually, “Like Ishbal, like Creta, like Xerxes. Only that Dante is desperate and with knowledge, time and an army on her side,” Then he smirked cruelly, narrowing his eyes on Mustang, ready to deliver the blow, “I think you should thank me, I spared your precious Hughes that fate.”

Edward’s eyes widened comically and Hawkeye gasped quietly, both snapping their heads to look at the dark haired man.

Roy saw red.

But before he could even snap his fingers and _burn_ the goddamn _monster_ , Envy was already walking away, laughing mockingly, disappearing into the shadows.

* * *

“Your brother allowed his mind to be tainted,” The old man smiled wryly as Scar glared, “And not by me.”

“You taught him the Arcana, when it was forbidden,” Hissing, the younger Ishbalan tightened his fists, “You indulged him in sin.”

“I gave him a chance to survive,” The wrinkled face turned stonily serious, “I gave him the tools to save our clan.”

Alphonse listened quietly, unsure of how to approach either man and simply staring blankly at his hands. The veiled insults came and went, tones not raising in the slightless as they drank the sour wine. The sun died slowly in the distance, temperature dropping dramatically as time passed, but no one seemed to notice. Pensive, the young boy thought of the pointers to Lior, the disaster that was certainly brewing around them. Wrath was gone now, he had left them as soon as they had stepped into the city proper, and the chimeras were no longer trying to kill Scar or himself, merely observing. He wasn’t entirely sure Scar had been aware of them, he seemed rather distracted as of late.

Alphonse blinked, startled, when Scar stomped away from the hut, shaking with restraint. The old man shook his head almost scolding, giving the suit of armor a wry smile.

“He doesn’t understand, never will,” Dark eyes fixed on the trapped soul with a glint of something the youngest Elric couldn’t quite understand, “His brother failed because he misunderstood the law of the Holy Arcana, the gift of Ishbala to men.”

The boy had a fair idea of what the man meant, nevertheless, he nodded.

“He expected to receive without giving in return,” The old man shook his head sadly, “He was selfish and his prayer was not raised with true Love, with selfless desire that can move the heart of the Immortal, of our beloved Ishbala.”

“Equivalent Exchange,” The voice echoed emptily in the small hut, carrying a strange note of hopelessness as Alphonse sighed in defeat, “It’s always so, isn’t it?”

“The marks are a curse,” Eyes dark enough they looked purple glinted almost approvingly at the young boy, “He cannot create, he can only destroy to compensate for that which has been taken.”

“But to remove them…”

“Lae,” The man shook his head, dirty hair trailing listlessly as he did so, “No removing. He will be bound to destroy until he dies.”

“But you said-“ If he could have had, Alphonse would have frowned, “Alchemy does not work that way. To destroy necessarily means to create.”

“But young Scar, as you call him, cannot create… because he loves nothing. To create, he would need to love something strongly enough to care none for consequence,” The Ishbalan old man smiled, “He would need to love like as brother never could… and then the marks would consume themselves. But there’s no warranty he wouldn’t be consumed with them.”

Heavy silence fell oppressively around them, loud enough they did not hear the grinding teeth of a certain white haired man outside.

* * *

Dealing with Envy had been a considerably strange affair. Given the complications that raised from their mission, it took them nearly another two weeks to pack up camp and head back to Central by train. Each day seemed longer than the one before, filled with a buzzing _threat_ in the air that no one but the Homunculus seemed to know about, and a restlessness that made them edgy. They had relocated to a shabby inn that had been confiscated in the name of the State as their base of operations, but as hard as they tried, nothing seemed to go as smoothly as it should have.

The androgynous monster moved around as if he owned the place, a Master of everything, arrogant and sure and _annoying._ But the sheer display of power was still fresh in their minds, and everyone knew it would be a tactical mistake to start a confrontation. He shadowed Edward and, surprisingly, Hawkeye, though the last was more for the sake of amusement than anything else. He spoke in a quiet hiss that made the blonde officer tense to the point her hand clenched around her pistol and her eyes flare up with a violent glint that would have been terrifying if it hadn’t been shadowed by the perpetual promise of retribution in the Sin’s own eyes. He was snide and vicious, a walking mass of contradicting rage that was _begging_ for an outlet of any kind.

Edward seemed anxious, locked in a room, alone or with Envy, at all times. The faded notes were written in an eerily familiar style, but it was the content what shocked him the most. A complete study of human transmutation, from the rudimentary starts – mostly conjectures by a young student – to the ultimate thesis, all which were explained in detail and with a frightening precision. If he had had access to all this _before_ … Edward decided he didn’t want to think about the past, and continued reading, puzzling over the author of the study he was going to work on, noting the strange Xianese characters at the bottom of each page, drawn carefully along a stylish V. He sank further and further into his contemplation of the realm of _Sin_ he was threading into with every line he read and every array he tried to decipher. He ignored the everything going on around him, concentrating on the plan that had begun to take shape before him.

But above them all, the strange moodiness that had befallen their leader was the most bothersome of them all.

Mustang seemed to have reached the end of his rope, holding onto his restraint with everything he had, trying and failing to remain impassive in the face of disaster. But he had lost control, and he knew it, and it drove him insane. Edward had sealed himself from the world, away from everything and not caring one bit for what could happen to them – or so it seemed. Envy became a ruling shadow, terrorizing the men even if they wouldn’t admit it; knowing they had a murderer among them, walking free and confident, made them terribly uncomfortable, and the further knowledge that there was nothing they could do about it simply put them at the edge.

“You’re not _making_ one,” The door muffled the annoyed voice from the Homunculus, “… _Idiot_.”

Hawkeye watched silently as Mustang stared intently at the closed door for a long moment, before he turned and left, a storm brewing over his furrowed brow.

She sighed.

* * *

Alphonse kept himself still. So still, he entertained the notion he _had_ become a real suit of armor. The thought amused him in a way he was certain was not healthy, but instead of chuckling out at the irony of the notion, he continued to watch the slithering shadows around. At his side, Scar snored very, very softly – Alphonse entertained the notion _he_ had become a large fluffy cat, but again, he controlled the urge to laugh, for _obvious_ reasons – completely unaware of their surroundings. His trust in the younger boy to keep watch was both frightening and awe-inspiring. They weren’t allowed into the city proper, so they camped outside, their small fire a tiny dot of red that was hidden by a mountain of sand.

“I know you’re there,” The empty voice was small, not wanting to startle his sleeping companion, “You can come out now, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Martel looked tired. The chimera gave him a weary stare as she slid forward, trembling under the strain. Alphonse noted she was drenched in sweat and that there was a sickly green shade to her skin.

She was dying.

“You’re an Alchemist,” Her voice hitched with the high fever, and the young boy felt a pang of compassion at the very core of his being, “You can fix this,” Her eyes looked unfocused, and her words slurred, overlapping as she gave another step forward, “You _have_ to fix this…”

Alphonse looked down at the sleeping Scar, feeling something rebel to the idea of abandoning him, but at the same time, understanding the desperation in the chimera’s voice. Martel staggered towards him another half step, seeming as if a light breeze would throw her off her feet.

“Alright,” The large suit of armor unfolded itself as quietly as possible, careful to ensure the sand would swallow the sounds he made.

Scar took a deep breath, staring at the dying embers of their fire for a long moment. Then he smiled, because it felt like the right thing to do.

* * *

Central looked grey.

That was the first thing Hawkeye had thought as they walked out of the Train Station. Central looked grey, and the cat in Edward’s arms looked irrationally _broken_. War, like Ishbal, like all the wars before, pointless and moronic and so damn _ridiculous_. Roy, with his tired posture and his determination not to break already cracked in too many places at the same time. Havoc, his mouth a thin white line and the doubled amount of cigarettes between his lips. Breda, with his hands twitching uncomfortably and his eyes a bit too shifty. Fuery, with that shy, tortured look that made him vulnerable and untouchable at the same time. Falman, his back stiff and his eyes shifty, with that unnatural paleness that was more fitting for a corpse than a man.

Riza Hawkeye blew her breath through clenched teeth and steeled her nerves.

“He knows what he’s doing,” Her voice echoed in the office – how long had it been since she had last stood there, in front of that desk? – and she forced herself not to flinch under the empty stare, “He’s always known.”

“He’s a child.”

She hated seeing him like that, thrown carelessly on the armchair, holding a half empty glass – _why was the glass always half empty for her?_ – of scotch, skin waxen under the glare of lights that felt too bright. She wondered why she still followed her loyalty, when it was pushing her to speak for something so _wrong_. Dark brown eyes stared down at Mustang, distantly calculating he would be drunk in less than twenty minutes – surprised to note she didn’t _care_ – and her lips thinned. His words echoed her mind, bounced, twisted, change, rearranged, morphed and _transmutated_ themselves.

At last, she smiled, and damned him to hell.

“But you’ve never seen him as such.”

She ran away from that laughter, the haunted cries within it, and wondered why her loyalty didn’t wane with despair.

* * *

_This is wrong._

Alphonse stared down at the broken chimeras, feeling something within crack at the sight of their unstable bodies. If he could, he would have cried. Instead, he forced his metal limbs to stay silent and clenched his hands as a feverish Martel told him briefly what she knew. It wasn’t necessary, he could tell by what he could see; their transmutations were dissolving, their bodies rejecting the animal parts they had been fused with, and unless he reapplied the transmutation, they would die.

“Bido’s gone,” Martel held onto his arm, shaking with fever, pale and withering, “Dorochet won’t wake and Loa…”

Alphonse felt something he had never felt before. Something that had made Edward pore over alchemy books when they were ten. Something that had pushed his brother and lit a fire to boil his blood. Something that came from the deepest part of his soul, from the forgotten corners that made him himself.

Alphonse nodded, and stepped forward.

“I’ll need something to trace the array with,” His voice thundered in a way it had never done before, and as Martel scrambled to find a stick for him to use, he wondered why he felt a part of his childhood slip away, taken in ways the gate and their quest hadn’t been able to do, and suddenly he understood. Alphonse Elric got his first _real_ taste of that power…

The power over Life and Death.

  


 

* * *

_Gone._

Edward stood at the edge of the roof, contemplating the sun sinking in the distance as it painted the grey city in vibrant oranges and golds. The breeze tangled in his hair and his clothes, whispering sweet nothings in his ears and his ears only, mocking the touch of a mother he desperately tried to not think about.

_She’s gone._

Alphonse scolding him for not eating properly, for yelling at the Bastard Colonel, for being rude to Winry. Alphonse humming the old lullaby when he couldn’t sleep, pretending not to notice he felt weak. Alphonse hiding a cat in the armor, looking sheepish when the meowing wouldn’t let him work. Alphonse trying to explain another of his temper tantrums to a local inn keeper. Alphonse asking a question with no definite answer. Alphonse answering unspoken enigmas. Alphonse…

_He’s gone, too._

“I had wondered where you had run off to.”

Edward forced a smirk as he turned to face his superior, golden eyes troubled. Mustang stood by the stairs, weary and questioning, approaching him with the same caution one would do a dragon. Edward didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry at the notion. Nevertheless, the older man moved closer, his own hair and clothes tussled by the relentless winds into something carved out from Edward’s dreams.

“I needed air,” The blonde answered truthfully, shrugging almost casually.

_He’s a child._

“Envy’s not with you,” Mustang said after a moment, almost too casually and with just the right amount of spite in his voice to make the Fullmetal wonder.

“He said he had something to do before, you know,” Edward snorted, lips thinning slightly, “And anyway, I rather he isn’t,” Another shrug, stronger this time, “I’ve had enough of him to last me a lifetime with that damned trip.”

“Ah,” Dark eyes glinted strangely, almost longingly, and in two long strides, the Colonel was standing by the edge, next to his subordinate.

_But you’ve never seen him as such._

He had intended to fetch the boy for a tactical meeting in his quarters, to prepare their expedition into Dante’s lair the next morning. Instead, Mustang contented himself by standing next to _his_ Fullmetal and watching the sun dying in the distance. What they were going to attempt could only be qualified as suicide. But then again, when the Elrics were involved, what else could he expect? Everything was ready though, with his unit preparing to trek to Lior the next morning, when they would have a chance to act without being noticed, and he and the few he had trusted to take with himself would not be missed.

They watched the sunset in silence, and as Mustang sighed, he wondered what morning would bring.

* * *

“ _No one_ , you understand? Not until I ever tell you to.”

Elysia pressed the small coin against her chest, nodding emphatically. Her friend looked different, strained, but she tried to smile and make him feel better. It wasn’t working much, but she thought any bit of brightness she could give him was good. Her mother had always told her that a smile was the best gift in the world, and her mother wouldn’t lie to her. She watched him walk away, back tense and hands clenched by his sides, angry, but not at her. Perhaps when he returned, she could ask him and he would feel better. Perhaps he would even tell her a nice story or she could show him the flower blooming array she had managed to draw.

Although… Although he seemed different, familiar in the way he walked away. And she felt something far older than herself when she asked the question, never minding he was gone already.

“You’re not coming back, are you?”

* * *

“You’re late,” Dante glared down at the kneeling Homunculus, visibly irritated, “I dislike tardiness.”

“I’m sorry,” Wrath bowed his head even lower, “Complications… the brats almost caught me.”

“But they did not?” Dark violet eyes fixed unnervingly on the child-monster, a latent threat shining in them, “Did they?”

“No, Master, of course not.”

Gluttony sat by the stairs, staring off at space and missing Lust. At least he didn’t cry anymore, not since Sloth had been silenced and Master had scared him. He didn’t want to be hurt. He spared the younger Homunculus a look; for a second confusing him with Envy, but he wasn’t. Gluttony wished Envy was with them, he would know what to do, how to make Master be happy again. Gluttony hated when Master was angry, because she yelled and hurt him when she was. She had killed Lust and Sloth because she was angry.

The second oldest Homunculus was afraid.

“Good,” Dante nodded almost to herself, “Go guard the girl. I don’t want any more mistakes. We should expect my beloved prodigal and his companions soon.”

Wrath nodded again, and slithered away, repressing a shudder of disgust at the sight of Dante’s sneer, the smirk that twisted her features horribly. That smirk had costed him Sloth; would, _could_ cost him Envy. The child-monster disappeared in the shadows, and held himself straight.

“Very good,” The Death Cheater whispered again, smiling almost sweetly, “Gluttony!”

The bald Sin started and turned to his Master warily, hoping he hadn’t attracted her wrath again. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. Ever since Lust wasn’t there to guide him anymore. Or Envy. Envy would know what to do. He always did. Always.

“Go check on my pets… and don’t eat them, you mindless beast,” She snarled at him, sneering at the drool gathering in his mouth, “Each one of them is worth a hundred of you.”

The Homunculus practically fled the room, feeling his insides twist with hunger, but found strength inside to repress it. He knew that if he even dared to _lick_ one of Master’s new toys, he would get hurt. Maybe even killed. If he got killed, Lust would be very angry with him.

Gluttony opened the heavy metal gate containing the inhumans and missed Lust a little more.

* * *

The abandoned temple greeted them somberly, high arches and darkened corners that only served to fuel the anxiety already weighting them down. Without need for Envy to point it out, Edward opened the doorway to the labyrinth that existed underneath Central and, without waiting for them, the short blonde began the long line of stairs with hurried little steps. He wanted to run and wait for them and go away, all at the same time, but he really couldn’t, so he simply replayed the array in his mind eye, shifting his eyes over the disdainful Envy every once in a while.

When their small group had entered the underground city with Envy at the lead, they had expected many things; crumbling buildings, darkness, ruins mostly. No one really wanted to know how everything had ended up underground, when it was obvious by what they could see that it had once stood under the sun. The air was heavy with dust of centuries and it made a certain reverence fall on everyone’s shoulders as they trailed after the Homunculus. Envy’s stand was deadly serious. Second, perhaps, only to Edward’s stiff pose.

They had expected many things, when they first stepped into the ruins of a Sin long gone, but not to see Hohenheim of Light waiting for them as they arrived, his hands behind his back, casually studying a chunk of a near by wall as if it held the answers to the universe.

“Oh, there you are,” The Alchemist smiled pleasantly as they stared at him, “I was wondering when you would get here.”

Envy stopped, not sure of how to react, though laughing hysterically was high on his list of priorities… as was going on a killing spree. Something inside him cracked, slowly, _slowly_ , a spiderweb on fire that set his nerves on edge and made his vision darken. His fists clenched instinctively as his lip curled over to reveal a dreadful snarl. Body taunt as a bowstring, barely held back from aggression, the world narrowed down to the god _damned_ serene smile in the bastard’s face, and the four steps that he would need to go and erase it. Forever.

Ed beat him to it, crossing with long strides to where his father was, before decking the man with a solid left hook.

“I take back every single ‘pipsqueak’,” Envy broke the uneasy silence with a sudden wry grin, watching as the old man stumbled back, rubbing his jaw absently, “Proactively.”

“Edward, though I suppose I _deserved_ it,” Hohenheim arched an eyebrow, “That was rather uncalled for.”

“Uncalled for?” The short blonde snorted, incredulous, “ _Uncalled for?_ You fucking fall off the face of Earth one day, and receiving your due is uncalled for?!”

“Now, now-“

“Your talent to bring up your children hasn’t waned,” Envy sneered with a dry snort, suddenly very interested in the dirt gathering under his fingernails. He smirked, “ _At all_.”

“I see your delight with human misery hasn’t either,” Hohenheim replied almost as a second thought, watching the Sin splutter slightly. The Alchemist ran a critic eye over their small group, frowning slightly, “You brought… _unexpected_ company.”

“Oh _yes_ ,” Envy waved a hand, snorting, “Nothing like a bunch of military dickheads to make a nice party. You know, adds to the cozy family reunion and shit.”

Hohenheim gave him a long exasperated stare, contemplating the possibility of starting another row, which would, of course degenerate into violence, which would be disastrous since he really, really liked the coat he was wearing. Thus, he decided to placate the Sin by ignoring him. Bypassing Envy’s scowl and Ed’s seething, he turned to Mustang, arching an eyebrow and smiling pleasantly as he feigned ignorant naivety. He expected the men accompanying his son – sons? – wouldn’t survive the ordeal given the circumstances, Dante’s natural disposition for genocide and their lack of any real alchemic talent. Perhaps Mustang would survive, but he was still pretty much a child, and that master of his – Matthias Hawkeye, if he recalled correctly – had never bothered to teach the boy how to properly use fire, beyond pretty fireworks.

“Colonel Mustang, I suppose?” Hohenheim intoned jovially, masking his mildly dark musings with a graceful tilt of his neck.

“Er- Yes,” Mustang coughed uncomfortably. He didn’t like the strange, familiar glint of power in the dark amber eyes. It was obvious who the man was, yet he couldn’t help but ask, “Yes, I am. And you are…?”

“Hohenheim Elric,” The Alchemist seemed almost proudly, or maybe he was daydreaming again. He seemed the type, either way, “Or perhaps you knew me as Hohenheim of Light?”

“What happened to good old Paracelsus?” came the sneering jab from Envy, who twisted his body in such a way his hips were stuck forward and his hands perched on them, making him look careless, “That sounded more… _important._ ”

“And you would sound more childish if you decided to pout some more,” The wry reply didn’t skip a beat, and the Homunculus, deeming himself insulted again, huffed and stalked away to the sidelines, “Now then, where were we?”

“You were giving us the ultimate enlightening,” was the final snide remark from Envy, as he turned to glare at the broken walls of the ruined city, tuning out the conversation.

“Er,” The Colonel decided everything was far too surreal for his tastes and instead focused all his attention on the blonde man before him, “Envy said Dante was here.”

“Ah, yes,” Hohenheim shook his head, “She was always too nostalgic. All is One and One is All, the Oroborus,” At their perplexed expressions he arched an eyebrow.

There was a long silence as the blonde man’s expression turned even more wry. Edward felt, in the back of his mind, that he should know what that meant. Seconds ticked down, Hohenheim’s smile still firmly in place as he looked at them almost mockingly. Silence prevailed.

“He means to go back to the start,” Envy groused with a mighty roll of eyes, finally snapping the long pause as he shook his head, “Fuckheads.”

“The first Philosopher’s Stone Dante used came from here,” The Alchemist ignored the annoying inhuman again and motioned with his arms to the ruins, he smiled, “Welcome to Xerxes.”

* * *

Frank Archer frowned as he reread the letter from the Führer. Surely, it was wrong. Surely they weren’t denying him the glory that was his by right! He was supposed to lead the troops against Lior, bathe himself in the same glory as many had done in Ishbal years ago. _Him_ , not that fucking good for nothing Mustang. Crumpling the paper in a tight fist, he snarled and threw it away from him. Always Mustang. Always a pebble in his shoe. Always an obstacle towards ultimate victory.

While Archer slaved for hours on end with work, while he fulfilled even the most menial tasks, while he presented everything in meticulous detail and obeyed the Brass without question… while he did all the fucking work no one else wanted to do, Mustang once again waltzed over, smiling coyly at everyone, and fucking got whatever he wanted served on a silver platter.

He swore he would make Mustang feel sorry about it.

_Very_ sorry.

* * *

The ruins turned out to be far larger than they would have expected, both by their age and their apparent destruction. Hohenheim talked pleasantly with Mustang as they lead their small party through the labyrinth of streets and debris, too comfortable in the situation to be natural. By all rights, the Alchemist made them uneasy with his friendly smile and calm demeanor. Havoc, Breda and Hawkeye followed their leader at a respectful distance, listening intently to the conversation and not even bothering to mask their curiosity. Ed and Envy closed the group, walking side by side and wearing ironically similar scowls as they glared at their father with considerable spite.

Envy was a tightly wound spring of hatred and bloodlust just _begging_ for the smallest outlet, which Hohenheim was dodging masterfully, yet teasing him with. The old man chattered inanely, seemingly content and unaware of the discomfort he was causing in his offspring, particularly in the green haired Homunculus that kept twitching ever so slightly when he chuckled.

“Mmm, my memory is hazy,” Turning to the silent shadowed faces that closed their committee, the Alchemist arched an eyebrow, “Do tell Envy, where’s the theatre?”

The Homunculus grinded his teeth hard enough they could hear it and snarled, baring his teeth threateningly.

“Just where it’s been the last four hundred years,” He snapped snidely, “Half buried near the Eastern Gate,” Smirking maliciously, Envy mocked the Alchemist with his stand as much as with his words, “Has age made you wither, old man?”

He walked past him, briskly, tension gathering between his shoulder blades as he lick his lips. He wanted to _kill_ goddamnit. He wanted to kill so badly, he felt the _need_ burning right under his skin.

“I _had_ hoped it had made you mature,” The Alchemist’s patience seemed to be strained with something darker than his usual pleasantries as he fixed the Homunculus with a look, “It has, after all, been a rather long time.”

“Mature?” Envy stopped abruptly, whirling around with an incredulous look plastered all over his face, “ _Mature_? This fucking comes from _the_ Paracelsus, right? _The_ hater of all things related to Human Transmutation, _right_?”

Mustang swore he would see the sarcasm spilling from the Homunculus mouth as thick, dark, poisonous rivers of hatred. The wound – whatever it might be – was gaping open and bleeding anger to the world still, and whatever Hohenheim Elric had done to Envy, it seemed harsh enough to keep the Homunculus seething. The soldiers readied themselves, hands clenching on their weapons as their volatile guide snarled viciously at the Alchemist’s face.

“If you didn’t have an identity crisis every fifty something years, we wouldn’t _need_ to save the world as we know it,” Hohenheim pointed out dryly, visibly vexed by the Homunculus’ stubborn barbs at his person.

“If you had kept your nose out of my affairs we wouldn't even be having this fucking conversation at all!" Envy hissed vehemently, eyes unnaturally bright, hands clenching with sheer restraint.

"Oh for the love of-" Hohenheim seemed to have had enough, as he finally snapped with a glare of his own, "Vyktor Elric, stop acting like a bloody _child_!"

Envy froze.

Silence fell uncomfortably in the small camp as all eyes fell on the Sin. He didn't notice, his own were fixed blankly on the older man, mouth slightly agape as he tried to grasp the words, then, he closed it tightly and his whole body tensed. Right hand raised and turned into a deadly claw, he gave an inhuman growl as he moved in for a kill. It’d be a clean shot, Envy’s mind – the part that was not drunk in anger – noted almost rationally, a clean shot, a nice splatter of blood and the worst vermin in the world would be gone. Forever.

Inches away from the impassive – did the fucking bastard ever lose the goddamn smile? – face, Envy found himself roughly slammed against a wall by a tentacle made entirely of dirt. All eyes turned instinctively to Edward, but he was staring just as shocked as everyone else.

“Greetings,” Wrath grinned, with an eerie similitude to the older Homunculus, “ _Prodigal_.”

Envy looked up from where he had fallen, pupils constricted to the point they disappeared, and snarled.

The fight was on.

* * *

“We will not go to war again.”

Alphonse watched the darkened eyes of his companion and nodded slowly. He knew, he understood the urgency of their situation. If they didn’t flee, no mercy would be shown towards them. This time, the sons and daughters of Ishbal would be annihilated, and there was nothing he could do except helping orchestrate their suicidal escape.

“To survive,” Scar narrowed his eyes as Alphonse sounded distant, “They– we will need to pass next to the army, unnoticed.”

“A diversion,” The Ishbalan felt something inside him sink, understanding the words the young boy had dared not to voice himself, “Something to distract them from the Exodus.”

The wind blew against the dunes, golden sand glittering like powdered gold in the distance. Alphonse’s armor caught the sun, reflecting it like some sort of prized jewel that made Scar ached in a way he couldn’t quite explain. The tall man stood there, under the unforgiving rays, and saw a child putting on a brave face. For his sake.

He suddenly felt very, very small.

“Dorochet and Loa will help, and I’ll ask Martel to deliver the bag to brother,” It sounded almost like an apology, making Scar wish he could silence the words that needed to be said, to quiet them forever, so they might never come true, “We’ll be fine.”

“Ishbala be with you, Alphonse Elric,” The scarred man said softly, almost too softly to be heard, and turned back to the broken city, to play a role he didn’t deserve.

Alphonse stood there for a moment longer, amidst the sun and doom, and smiled a little smile no one could see.

“And Ishbala be with you, Scar.”

Then he began his own trek through desert, towards the Chimeras’ hideout, and sent his brother a thought of farewell.

* * *

They had scattered, when the fight had truly started. Hordes of inhumans appeared practically out of nowhere, moaning and screeching; clawed, bony fingers stretched and ready to tear them apart if they weren’t clever enough to avoid them. Edward and Mustang had teamed up for the moment, right after Envy started chasing after Wrath. Strangely in sync with each other, Flame and Fullmetal tried to keep the wave of decaying bodies away, while their companions fired with all they had against them. It was overwhelming, the stench, the groans, the twisted plays of light over the grayish skin… it was a walking nightmare, waiting for them to slip, to swallow them whole.

Envy and Wrath appeared from time to time, emerging from the ruins and the mass of animated corpses without skipping a beat in their private war, too deep into their own struggle to notice them or care about what the others did. Despite having the advantage of strength and age, Envy has having a hard time pinning down the bothersome brat. Wrath had just fed himself, and the shape shifter was acutely reminded of all the damage he had sustained since he had last eaten a red stone. He wasn’t about to let a crying baby win, of course, he had too much pride for that. Besides, Wrath was too sloppy to really cause any damage that took more than two seconds to heal up.

Havoc and Hawkeye circled the large bag of ammo they had brought, hissing incoherently as each entered the mindset of a soldier, and forgot about niceties like clean shots or painless hits. Breda tried to keep calm enough to calculate his throws perfectly; each grenade was precious, and each missed target could mean their death.

Very nasty, very unpleasant death.

Hohenheim stood, unfazed by their efforts, over what might have been the ceiling of a house once, hands behind his back, eyes glassed over and fixed on a distant archway. He took no notice of the battle being fought around him, or of either of his sons struggling to save their hides. The golden eyed man tilted his head to the side, as if to listen closely to an unknown voice. After a moment, he nodded in agreement to himself and finally seemed to realize what was going on. Hohenheim frowned, lips thinned down to a white line.

He was annoyed.

Edward gasped as his back hit the rock, feeling color drain off his face as the hands reached out for him, ready to _kill_. Mustang, breathing harshly by his side, shivered almost imperceptibly. Distantly, the blonde decided he had never thought he would die quite like that. _That’s it. Finale. And I didn’t even get to kiss the real thing._ Edward caught sight of Envy in the corner of his eye and he saw the Homunculus chasing Wrath through the archway and into the fallen building they were supposed to be raiding. _Fucking bastard._

“Very well," Hohenheim said with a rather cheerful tone, before clapping his hands lightly, "Away with you now."

He raised his right hand almost lazily, and the stream of light cleared the path almost instantly, incinerating the beasts with the sheer release of raw alchemic power. It was untamed, wild energy, drawn directly from the Gate with no other purpose but to decompose the mass of bodies to ether. He hadn't even broken a sweat. Repeating the motion twice, the number of immortals attacking lowered enough to be manageable, and deeming his work done, Hohenheim started walking towards the archway. The solders gaped at him, flabbergasted, before Edward managed to gather his wits and, snarling something unintelligible, sprang towards the doorway.

“Move!” The Flame Alchemist sent a rain of sparks over the stunned monsters that still remained, and ran after the elusive Fullmetal, passing the Alchemist in his way, not noticing the distant look in his eyes again.

Regrouping as best as they could, they slithered through the tall stone archway, towards the bright light inside. Hohenheim remained behind, unaware and untouched by the monsters as he continued to placidly move towards their shared goal.

* * *

“So you’re back now.”

Wrath jumped high in the air, and landed in front of Dante, eyes fixed expectantly on Envy as the woman, now wearing Lyra’s body, smiled. She was standing at the very center of the stage, sneering, still using that ridiculous walking stick as if she needed it. Gluttony was standing behind her, hiding someone from view, though he his tiny eyes glinted with recognition as Envy landed with far more grace than Wrath did. The room was brightly lit, a stark comparison with the darkened ruins outside, and spacious enough that if Envy closed his eyes and tried hard, he could still envision the magnificent feasts that had taken place there, centuries before.

But Envy didn’t want to remember forgotten glories, and he snarled viciously as he fixed his eyes on Dante.

“Now, now, dear,” She had the nerve to smile at him, waving a hand, placating, “Won’t you wait until you see what I got you? I have a present for you and you’re too impatient to receive it!”

Whatever snide remark he was about to throw her way died in his throat as Gluttony stepped aside, and a dazed woman gave two steps forward. In her arms, she held a bundle of white cloth, almost absent mindedly as she looked at things unknown in her drugged stupor. Her skin was too dark and _she_ hated wearing her hair loose and the clothes were _wrong_ , but…

He didn’t notice when Wrath sprinted past him, back to where they had come from.

“Oh, you think I didn’t know?” Dante laughed shrilly, a hand covering her mouth in a mockery of refinement, “Of your little pet from the East? This might not be _her_ , of course, but the similarities are enough to throw you off, aren’t they? After all, they were enough to make you spare her life once already.”

Envy paled, outrage bubbling right under his skin as he tried to _think_ and not end up doing something ridiculously stupid like Edward would. But as he watched the bicolor haired woman with morbid curiosity, he felt the world slipping away, only pure, solid hatred remaining, his eyes trained on Dante’s smirk.

“She’s pretty, I’ll admit,” A gloved hand came up and titled Rosé’s chin upwards. Dante’s eyes glinted wicked as the dreamy smile on her face didn’t waver in the slightless, “You’ve always had an exquisite taste, but what else can I expect?” The eldest Sin began shaking as his eyes narrowed dangerously, “What do you say, Envy? Won’t I look _delightful_ with her face? I’ve never tried an Ishbalan before.”

_-stop acting like a bloody **child!**_

Hohenheim’s words – what right had he had to reveal his name to others? How did he _dare_? – only fueled the sudden _need_ to spill blood. The bloodlust he had become so good at repressing over the centuries became too much, too violent, too consuming. He wanted, _wanted_ …

“ _Arg!_ ”

He sprinted forward, hand raised into a claw, ready to _tear_ \- Dante was tapping her walking stick on the marble floor and it glowed under his feet…

_An array,_ Envy thought distantly, _I’m an idiot_.

And then his world was reduced to agony.

* * *

The marks of the Homunculi’s fight were visible in the corridor. Holes where stone and dirt had been transmutated away by Wrath’s power, places with dents where Envy’s fists had missed their target. Edward ran through the stairs, Mustang and company on his heels. He had to get there, before Envy did something stupid like getting blasted away. Mentally, he traced the lines of the array again, what each sign meant, the calculated effect it would have. The monsters were chasing him, he noted distantly, faster than they appeared to be, but the blonde wasn’t worried. They would be useful.

“Not yet!” The tentacle of dirt caught Edward in the chest, throwing him backwards.

He slammed against Mustang, who was snapping his fingers already, and both tumbled down a few steps while Wrath shrieked. The Homunculus was reduced to a smoldering pile of ashes, his strained cries echoing for a moment longer. Hawkeye and Havoc kept their guns trained at it, while Breda helped a reluctant Edward and a slightly dazed Mustang upwards.

“What now, Wrath?” Edward glared as in a flash of white light, the fallen Homunculus reshaped himself again, “Envy said-“

“Change of plans,” The Sin narrowed his eyes in warning, mismatched hands flexing, “Can’t let you pass yet.”

“Fullmetal?”

“If I don’t get there _now_ ,” Edward hissed as he frowned, ignoring the frowning Mustang, “Dante-“

“Dante’s having a little heart to heart with him,” Wrath shook his head, “If you stomp in there now, he’ll go ballistic on you _and_ me,” He sulked slightly, “And I got enough of that already.”

Ed opened his mouth to argue, when there was a flash of red light and an unholy screech. Very distinctly, though, it was Envy’s voice. Golden and purple met for a second before they stumbled into the room in a riot. Two seconds later, still wondering _what_ was going on and _when_ they were going to tell them, Mustang and company followed.

* * *

It was a strange feeling, he realized, under the thousand different layers of pain that were constricting around him. It was like a heart, beating to a rhythm that mocked life in its perfection. Somewhere deep within, somewhere he had never been before, somewhere he had never touched, where the infamous stone was lodged between flesh and blood, where his soul was supposed to be. It never changed, no matter what he turned into, it was there, pulsing, thumping softly and reminding him he could not die. He didn’t feel it most of the time, it had slowly faded to the back of his mind as the centuries had passed, only occasionally reminding him it was there, when the bloodlust spun out of control. When he sank his fingers into his own kind and _pulled_ , when the stones and the souls in them screeched in harmony and he fed himself. When another Homunculus was destroyed, only then had the stone become tangible, in those precious moments, as another was reduced to nothing, only then he would see clearly what he carried inside.

The array flared under his feet, power coiling in ways he knew by heart, following the lines and curves to form a sinuous embrace that was suffocating him. But it wasn’t draining him, instead, the energy – pure, unadulterated alchemic energy as he hadn’t felt go through him since that horrible, horrible night back home, four hundred years ago – entered him, following fake nerves and fibers to that secret core, feeding the stone. It burned, burned in terrible ways as he felt the flesh being torn off his bones, and it _hurt_ when the flesh stubbornly reattached itself, regenerating as fast as the flow of power went.

“I own you, Envy,” Dante was saying, her voice distorted and screeching – or maybe it was him screeching – and so fucking _real_ , “I always have.”

Suddenly, it stopped.

He had a second of utter, mind blowing silence, before he felt, he _heard_ , the stone cracking. A small hairline at first, insignificant, but slowly growing with a deafening sound. It echoed in his mind as the power of the array recoiled and left him alone, merely trapping him in a mocking cage. He didn’t care, all he could focus on was that small sound, the thin line that broke through the thick stone and the virtual tears it was bleeding. The stone _bled_ inside him, he could feel it, cool, searing, slipping, drowning…

And his world spun out of control. He felt light gathering at his feet, red and angry, as the stones inside him, from all those he had consumed to sate the hunger. It was almost as if he could hear them, soulless and broken, wailing miserably at him for his crimes. And the light went up without his will, stubborn, following the screaming voices that _wouldn’t shut the fuck up!_

Envy wondered if that was what hell felt like.

* * *

Martel ran.

Ran as fast as she could, all the strength of her damned transformation put to good use as she sneaked past the army and into lush grasslands beyond the desert.

_Find my brother, he will need this._

She had a duty. Duty, she could understand. Running fast and agile, not stopping, never stopping, never failing. She was not going to fail Alphonse. Alphonse hadn’t failed her when she had needed him.

_I know it’s too much to ask, but please Martel, it’s important._

Alphonse who never had ulterior motives, who always smiled even though he couldn’t and who had saved her. Who traced his lines and somehow soothed the pain inside. Alphonse who had been there when she was weak, dying.

_I’ll be fine. Everything will be fine. I’ll protect Loa and Dorochet, don’t worry._

Protect. He had protected them, like Greed hadn’t. Greed had promised them freedom and protection, but he only enslaved them again; different master, similar routine. But Alphonse wasn’t Greed, wasn’t Tucker, Alphonse was Alphonse was Alphonse and he kept his word even when everything was falling apart.

_Please._

Martel ignored her bleeding heels, and sped up a little more, the precious bag tightly gripped in her hand.

* * *

The brightness of the hall blinded them long enough for Wrath to give a panicked sound and throw himself forward without warning. Edward would have stopped him, but he was horror struck at the picture Envy made, writhing to control his own power, the angry light going up and down and his body changing too fast. He caught a glimpse of the elusive Pride from the Briggs Mountains and Hughes, Lust, Sloth, himself. Envy knelt, hands wrapped tightly around his middle as he clenched his teeth to keep from screaming.

He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

Wrath lost himself in the panic. It was like Sloth but worse, because now he could _see_. He could feel it in the air, the struggle to remain complete, the degeneration and he knew, a second too long, a movement too slow, and Envy would be gone.

_Gone_.

“Wrath!” Edward found himself trying to stop the Homunculus, for no other reason than his own revulsion to destruction.

It was enough, enough with Envy, enough with the inhuman, enough with Dante. He didn’t care who it was, but no one would die anymore. Not anymore.

“Fool!” Dante whirled behind Rosé, a hand sneaking into the small bundle of cloth in the Ishbalan’s arms and narrowed her eyes as she felt the power surging from the child and all around them.

And then, time slowed down to a dreadful crawl as The Gate appeared right before Envy and Wrath.

Tall, forbidding, black, ornate, terrible and _there_. Wrath backpedaled as he hyperventilated himself, eyes wide and keening. Edward paled into a sickly green shade and he felt more than saw Mustang fall slack, his eyes widened. Hands loosened around weapons when they _felt_ the aura of the gate, the misty golden light and the strange creaking while the eye in it glowed brightly and it opened.

Wrath began shaking, eyes wide and body unable to move, to _react_. The memories flooded him, of the golden land and the hands and the pain and the _screams_.

“Ah, Edward Elric,” Dante smiled at the blonde, more of a sneer than anything, “Welcome to my humble home. I trust Envy didn’t inconvenience you, did he?” Edward tightened his jaw, feeling his muscles tense and hurt. He shouldn’t do anything rash, really shouldn’t, but god, he _wanted_ to, “Yes, I see,” Dante hit the ground again with her walking stick, and the array trapping Envy flared to life again, making him screech despite his best attempts to stop himself, “Homunculi are much like animals that way, you have to train them, or they won’t behave themselves.”

She smiled sweetly, and from within the darkness of the gate, purple eyes awoke, large and small, glaring predatorily at the terrified Wrath. Little hands shot out after him, wrapping tightly around the stolen limbs and tensing as they prepared to swallow him whole.

“No!” Completely incoherent with fear, the youngest homunculus pulled back, voice pleading as he looked at the shivering Envy, trying to find solace, _somewhere_.

“You sick-“ Mustang caught Ed before he got himself killed, holding him back as Dante laughed.

The Colonel’s mouth was dry, breath stolen by the magnitude of the Gate threatening to swallow Wrath, the very obvious pain Envy was in – which turned out to be not so satisfying as he had thought it would be – and the insane glint in the woman’s eye.

“Sometimes, though,” Dante lowered her voice into a conspiratory tone, “Sometimes, I’m afraid training just won’t do. So you have to get rid of… defective products.”

The stick to the ground, and Envy arched up again, screeching. His body changed erratically, but with the pain tearing at his senses, he couldn’t concentrate enough to _do_ something. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wrath struggling to escape the Gate and wondered distantly if he too would be swallowed up by the Gate at some point.

What _the fuck_ was Edward waiting for?

Gluttony twisted behind Dante. Torn between his own selfish wants, and the crushing weight of fear. She would punish him. Violently, terribly. She would make him miserable beyond words, and then he would have to break the promise he made to Lust.

_Survive._

But if he didn’t do _something_ , he was going to break his _other_ promise. And breaking his word to Lust, his precious, beloved Lust, it was worse than punishment. Worse than anything Dante would come up with for him.

_Make Envy strong. He needs you, just like you need me._

Wide eyed, still debating whether to move or not, Gluttony watched as Envy dragged himself upwards, volts of red light escaping his body without a defined pattern as he struggled to remain upright. He snarled violently, keening when Dante powered the array some more, making it glow in a vicious red. It was so powerful, _he_ felt it course through him, threatening. The soldiers had their guns trained at Dante, but she was hiding behind Rosé, and they couldn’t risk hurting her. The baby in her arms began to wail loudly, causing Wrath to second it between harsh breaths.

_This isn’t happening,_ Edward thought desperately, trembling between anger and disgust, _this **can’t** be happening._

“Fucking _hate_ you,” The Shape Shifter growled through another stolen face, as a shot of power made the stone recoil and _hurt_.

“I see,” Dante smiled, seeing beyond them the inhuman gathering and ready to do her biding, “I have no use for unruly servants or moralists disguised as Alchemists. Gluttony?” Blinking back from his stupor, he straightened and swallowed hard. Dante sneered, even as she began walking backwards, away from the stage, “Finish them off.”

Wrath slipped, struggling and crying as he felt himself being dragged back into the Gate, the wide eyes staring down at him with a starved glint. For a second, all eyes turned to him, watching with morbid terror as he cried and futilely attempted to save himself. When they looked back at the stage, only Gluttony remained there.

Dante was gone.

Instinctively, the Sin threw himself forward, mouth open, and even when the guns were fired, he didn’t feel it. He was _hungry_. Gluttony smiled widely as more bullets pierced his body, he was going to _eat_. They panicked for a second, just as Envy reached out and grabbed Wrath’s shirt tightly, holding him back with the last remains of his own strength. He kept changing, without rhyme or reason, but at least he wasn’t in constant agony anymore. Not without Dante there to power up her little torture device.

“Let _go_ ,” He hissed venomously, feeling his own feet failing him as the hands tightened their hold on them, “Let go, goddamnit!”

Gluttony ran as fast as he could towards the startled audience, ignoring the bullets and dodging the flames sent his way, but surprised them when he jumped over them, disappearing through the wide door and into the corridors. He was hungry, but they were not his prey.

Rosé’s baby continued crying.

They made quite a curious picture, Hohenheim thought distantly, particularly for their seeming disability to take action regarding _anything_. Envy, he could understand, what with being half destroyed and all, but Edward? He had certainly expected better from his son. Just as he stepped into the room, Wrath finally decided to listen to the breathless Envy, and the stolen limbs flew back into the Gate with a screech from their previous owner and a nice splatter of borrowed blood. Not a second later, the hands sneaked out again, wrapping around them, both this time, tightening in warning.

“That has been enough,” Hohenheim commanded softly, staring at the Gate and studiously ignoring everyone else.

Miraculously, the hands retreated at once, though they continued to hover restlessly just outside of their confinement. Hohenheim began to walk towards the Gate, with sure, long steps and unconsciously, everyone got out of his way. He looked like a king without a kingdom, scary and entrancing, all at the same time.

“Don’t,” Envy rasped, sitting up and taking the sobbing Wrath up with him. The array was dead, and he could feel his body slowly returning back under control, though he felt incredibly drowsy, “Don’t you _dare_.”

Hohenheim stopped in front of the Gate, staring up at it, half in wonder, half in detachment. He spared a look at Envy, smiling.

“I still owe you a death, I believe,” The Alchemist tilted his head to the side, and the hands wrapped around him.

“ _Dad_!” Edward snapped out of it, reaching out with a cry as Hohenheim was roughly pulled back into the Gate.

“Until next time, I’m afraid.”

The Alchemist jumped, and the Gate was sealed.

* * *

Edward fell to his knees as the caustic aura of the Gate finally left the room. The oppressing quiet was broken periodically by the shuddering sobs that were shaking Wrath violently and Envy’s harsh breathing. Outside, they heard the inhuman growl and screech as Gluttony devoured them. Failure weighted them down, the air feeling crushing inside their lungs as minutes ticked by, marked by an acute sense of loss.  
  
“I wouldn’t go there if I were you.”  
  
Envy arched an eyebrow as Mustang stopped abruptly. He wasn’t looking at him, he was staring at the curled Edward with a malicious little smile pending from his lips, ignoring Wrath. Smirking smugly, he suppressed the primal need to curl up in fetal position and cry himself to death, instead forcing his tired, agonizing body back into his trademark shape.  
  
“We need to leave,” The Colonel informed him tersely, dark eyes narrowed, “Immediately.”  
  
“If you fancy watching Gluttony at work, be my guest,” The Shape Shifter slid upwards, back to his feet and successfully hiding his own unsteadiness as he shrugged Wrath off him with a snort, “But it’s fucking gross.”  
  
“It hurts… it _hurts_ ,” The youngest Homunculus writhed on the floor, drenched in blood and red water and seemingly too shocked to heal himself. Envy delivered a particularly cruel kick to his side, glaring when Wrath wailed. “Why?”  
  
“Because you’re pathetic. Because you make me sick.” The Shape Shifter kicked him again, “Because I should have destroyed you when I found you. You’re a disgrace to us, you’re _weak_.”  
  
Despite the fact Wrath was certainly not human, he presented a pitiful image as Envy continued to spite him. His unnaturally large eyes filled up with tears, and it made Mustang clench his teeth in anger and Edward feel his own sorrows wither against the irritation the older Homunculus inspired in them. No one needed to be a rocket scientist to figure out Wrath was weak, Envy was just being mean for the sake of being mean.  
  
“And now you cry,” The Shape Shifter bared his teeth, digging his foot against Wrath’s side brutally, “What are you? Human? Dante was right, you’re a _failure_ ,” He sneered when the tears stopped abruptly, cut dry by sheer shock. He gave the younger Homunculus a disdainful look, then swept his gaze over the stunned audience before adding nastily, “Just like Sloth, eh?”  
  
He turned towards the exit, giving his back to Wrath and the others and smirked when he heard the growl of pure fury as the youngest Homunculus threw himself forward, regenerating the lost limbs instantly. There was a groan as Envy turned swiftly and for a moment, there was silence.  
  
“Don’t you _dare_ to raise your hand against me, you hear me? Ever.” Envy’s fist had crossed cleanly through the dumbfolded Wrath, who hung frozen in place by the fierce snarl that threatened with him something even worse than the Gate if he dared to tick Envy off again, “There won’t be much left of you if you do. Get it fucking clear Wrath, you answer to me and if you don’t like it, I’m sure I can make quite a nice meal out of you.” He wrenched his hand back, allowing the younger immortal to crumble to the ground, “Clear?”  
  
Wrath stared at his hands – both pale, matching inhuman hands – for a long moment, then he nodded submissively.  
  
“ _Crystal_.”  
  
Envy shook his hand clean and put to fingers to his mouth, whistling loudly and the racket outside stopped. Gluttony appeared at the door a minute later, drenched in blood and red water, a maniatic glint in his little eyes as he seemed to be awaiting orders. Envy gave another disdainful glare to the Alchemists and the soldiers. He snorted.  
  
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

* * *

Heymans Breda had bad luck. The worst luck ever. He allowed his eyes to wonder to the mirror and the car that was following them. He fixed his worst glare possible on it. Havoc was just a fucking son of a bitch and it wasn’t _fair_. To his right, Hawkeye seemed unnervingly calm for someone who was in a car with not one, but _three_ known murderers that were also pretty damn _immortal_. She seemed vexed the most with _where_ they were going, rather than with whom.  
  
Breda hoped Havoc would burn his tongue with his stupid cigarettes. Or something.  
  
“Ew, you’re _drooling_ on me,” Wrath scooted as far away from Gluttony as was possible, without invading Envy’s personal space, and grimaced.  
  
“I’m hungry,” The bald Sin said simply, seemingly pouting as he patted his giant belly. Breda shuddered as he caught sight of his strange eyes in the mirror and noted that yes, indeed he was drooling something awful.  
  
“Just how many did you eat down there?” Wrath furrowed his brow, prodding the older Sin thoughtfully.  
  
“Not enough,” Gluttony said almost sadly, “Never enough.”  
  
Hawkeye drummed her fingers on her knee, staring out of the window and trying not to humanize their companions. She had seen them fight, each of them, and she was well aware their inoffensive appearances were just that, appearances. Gluttony had decimated the inhumans and tore them to shreds for food, and he hadn’t slowed down even after they’d shot him. Wrath was capable of Alchemy, though now that the stolen arm and leg were gone, he might have lost that power. He was a skilled fighter though, and who knew what his Homunculus’ Talent, as Edward called it, could be? Then there was Envy, and there were not enough words to being describing how dangerous he could be, more so now, when he was angry and frustrated.  
  
They looked harmless enough, Envy dozing off in a corner, Wrath and Gluttony bickering like children, but she was not fooled.  
  
She clenched her hands on the rough cloth of her uniform and fought back the urge to curl her lip into a snarl. Great, she thought distastefully, now she was starting to _act_ like Envy. Just his presence was contagious.  
  
“Turn left at the next crossroad.”  
  
Breda nodded absently, not really wanting to say anything. Envy kicked Wrath and glared at Gluttony, and silence stretched, tense and merciful at the same time, over them.  
  
Outside, the outskirts of Central passed them by, unaware of the weight holding them down, and the even greater trials ahead.

* * *

Dorochet stopped behind him, crouching behind the rock as they watched the military settlement buzzing with activity. Apparently their little ‘pranks’ on the camp had been noticed quickly enough. Alphonse watched the soldiers move around, eyes unconsciously drawn to the tallest man in sight as the intimidating figure tried to calm down the unrest among the troops.  
  
“We’ve stopped them for long enough,” The suit of armor turned to the two chimeras, rattling his shoulders as he shrugged, “I can handle it from here, no need for you to take a risk.”  
  
“Not happening, kid,” Dorochet smirked widely, the hand on the hilt of his sword clenching reflexively, “We owe you.”  
  
“We don’t like to leave our debts unpaid,” Loa nodded his head in agreement, smiling grimly, “The military made us what we are today, but we wouldn’t be here today if you hadn’t been there. Count on us, Alphonse Elric, we won’t fail you.”  
  
“I don’t want anyone to die,” The boy sat back on the sand, his glowing eyes fixed on the rough gauntlets, “I didn’t save you so you could die, you’ve done enough.”  
  
“We’ll tell you when it’s been enough,” Dorochet patted his shoulder roughly, grinning, “C’mon, I haven’t had a decent fight in ages.”  
  
Alphonse looked at them, saw the glint of determination in their eyes, the absolute trust and loyalty there, and wondered if that was what the Colonel and his brother saw in those that followed them. It made something stir within him, something that writhed and demanded him to pull through.  
  
They trusted him: he couldn’t allow himself to fail now.

* * *

“You don’t look too good.”  
  
Envy sneered as he pressed his forehead to the cold glass of the window. The Manor had been closed up for so long, buried behind memories and dust, things he had no need to know about, but which were palpable in the way the Colonel and the Lieutenant had been side stepping each other since they arrived. The place showed the clear signs of abandon, cobwebs and crusts of dirt, but it was the perfect place to regroup after their spectacular failure back in Xerxes. Another two of Mustang’s subordinates had been waiting for them aside the blonde sniper that had driven them there in the first place, but Envy hadn’t paid much attention to them; by the way Gluttony was moving, he was due releasing in a few hours, and wouldn’t _that_ just be entertaining. Hawkeye had told them to rest and quietly asked him to keep the other Homunculi under wraps while she and the others treated their wounds and regrouped. He figured shoving Gluttony into a closet and Wrath into a lone bedroom weren’t the best ways to keep them doing something stupid, but he needed to rest, to find a way to dull the ache within the stone and clear his head.  
  
He needed to sleep, and as usual, sleep eluded him when he needed it the most.  
  
“Your innate ability to point out the obvious has me awed,” He saw the reflection of the blond flinching back, and he turned around with a sigh. He was so damn _tired_. “She broke the stone.”  
  
Edward paled. Envy contemplated laughing, but decided against it, taking in consideration he was not really in the mood to fight with the brat again.  
  
“What do we do now?” Slowly, the blonde Alchemist sat on an ornate chair that seemed about to collapse, and fixed the Homunculus with a slightly lost look.  
  
Envy hated that look; it reminded him of too many things that weren’t important anymore.  
  
“Change our plans,” The Shape Shifter shrugged, and Edward entertained the strange notion that he had gotten thinner after their ordeal in the ruins, “She knows we’re alive. She knows we’re plotting against her. She’ll probably figure out what we’re planning, and anyway, as soon as she and Pride meet, she’ll be able to counter whatever we do. Now the bastard’s gone too, whatever we come up with, Dante will know.”  
  
“You sound like you want to give up.”  
  
Envy laughed.  
  
“Of course I want to give up, I want to _die_ ,” He snarled, “I want to fucking _stop_ it. But hell if I ain’t taking the bitch down with me.”  
  
“So what do we do?” Ed rubbed his left eye nervously, “If we can’t use the stone, then what?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Envy swayed slightly, feeling the room spin as the stone wailed in agony inside him, “Fuck.”  
  
Edward didn’t like it. He and Envy had a deal. He would help the Homunculus get rid of Dante for once and for all and Envy would give him a stone to restore his and Al’s body in exchange. It had sound so simple, back then, sitting in dirt and staring at the eyes of a murderer. So damn simple, he should have known it wouldn’t work that way. Life never worked that way with him.  
  
The Envy he had made a deal with was a confident son of a bitch who really wasn’t afraid of anything. The Envy in front of him was wary, weakened and snippy, like a wounded animal that had no real way to defend himself. At least he had managed to get a hold of his erratic changes. Ed didn’t like the prospect of facing Dante in the weakened, beaten state they were in.  
  
They were fucked.  
  
"They’re yours, aren’t they?" Envy startled at the sound, blinking as the room came into focus. Edward frowned when he didn’t answer. “The notes. The ‘V’ at the bottom, it stands for _Vyktor_ , doesn’t it?”  
  
"No, maybe," Envy snorted, turning to look out of the window again, “That idiot got himself killed long ago.”  
  
Edward hissed a nervous breath. Vyktor Elric. That was something that was bothering him greatly. His father had known Envy by name. By his _human_ name. But _why_? How could he have known Envy before he was immortal? The Sin had said so, he was over four hundred years old. Hohenheim couldn’t have known him, it was impossible. And yet…  
  
“Who _are_ you?”  
  
“Wouldn’t you love to know?” Envy sneered, shaking his head from his own musings and attempting to walk to the door, hiding his stumbling to the best of his ability. Fuck, he was _hurting_.  
  
Edward grabbed his arm and wrenched him roughly, spinning the unstable body until it was face to face with him. Envy snarled, and Ed snarled back.  
  
“ _Who_ are you?” Envy narrowed his eyes dangerously, wishing the stupid stone would stop aching so he could free himself from the blonde’s grasp. “I’m sick and tired of listening to you whine and bitch. You know my father. My father knows you. Who the hell are you?”  
  
“Listen now, you fucking brat,” He pulled his arm back so hard he felt the bones of his shoulder dislocate, but he was so damn _angry_ , he didn’t care about it, “This is _my_ game. My revenge. My rules. The only reason you’re still alive and breathing is because I fucking need someone who can do Alchemy for this. I need you alive. I don’t need you happy, I don’t need you _whole_. All you have to do is clap your hands and be done with it.” Light began to gather at Envy’s feet as he lost control of his anger. By the Gate, he wanted to _kill_. “I’m not your friend, I’m not your tool, and I’m not your fucking _brother_ so stop expecting me to act like one!”  
  
Ed remained silent, staring in shock at the vibrant purple eyes that were threatening him with violence. He tried hard to notice the ragged blond bangs of hair framing those eyes, or the suddenly intimidating height. When Envy stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him, Ed slid to the floor slowly, feeling boneless.  
  
Brother? Who had ever said anything about a brother?

* * *

The chimeras moved with a speed and agility that had caught the small unit by surprise. Though they weren’t aiming to kill, the soldiers were easily disabled as they charged and jumped around the camp. Alphonse sneaked around, trying to get into a good spot to grab Armstrong’s attention. The Strong Arm Alchemist was unable to do much for his soldiers, as the chimeras kept close to them at all times, making the risk of hitting them skyrocket. Finally, almost by agreement, the two burly monsters stood in a perfect aim for him. However, as he prepared to attack, the ground under him rumbled and earth literally swallowed him.  
  
Dorochet and Loa shared a smirk, before they ran away from the camp, leaving the confused soldiers wondering what had happened to their leader and what to do now that they were alone.

* * *

Hawkeye raised an eyebrow at the sight of Envy – it _had_ to be Envy, no one else had that particular taste in clothing – sitting in the rail of the second floor balcony. He seemed to have recovered his balance, as he perched quite easily at the edge, but instead of his favored form, the blonde woman recognized the apparition from the mountains.  
  
“Wrath and Gluttony are missing,” She said as casually as possible, walking to where he was and leaning next to him, “The Colonel wants to know where they are.”  
  
“Hn.”  
  
“And Edward’s missing too,” Her voice hardened and he snorted.  
  
“No wonder _why_ he’s looking for the brat, eh?” He sneered at her, smirk widening at the sight of her scowl, “My, my, you condone what he intents to do, but you still hate it. Salt on the wound, Lieutenant?”  
  
“No.” Her voice was steady, icy and promising pain if he continued to pursue the conversation.  
  
“I see,” Envy smiled nastily, “Lovely evening, isn’t it? Fairly romantic, if I do say so myself.”  
  
Hawkeye’s hands clenched on the rail, lips thinning in irritation as the Homunculus words stung her easily. The sun was setting in the distance, casting a reddish glow on the countryside, and she watched it intently in an effort to control her emotions – she wouldn’t give _Envy_ the satisfaction of throwing her off balance. She didn’t need to ask how he knew, Envy seemed to know a lot more than he should, but it was always disturbing to listen to his barbs about something so intrinsically personal as her silent consent for whatever the Colonel wanted to do with that boy.  
  
“You wouldn’t know romantic even if it smacked you across the face,” The snort only caused Envy to grin, shrugging.  
  
“Nah, I do,” The light gathered around him as he returned to his favorite form, “The nauseous feeling gives it away. Let’s go, before your precious Colonel finds them first,” Envy sneered, “The brat would absolutely never forgive me if that idiot died of a coronary.”

* * *

Armstrong returned to the camp at dusk, looking tired and irritated. Everyone valued their lives too much to dare to ask what was going on, but gossip ran amok when the order to settle down properly sunk in. They were still a good way away from Lior, and if they were going to invade, it wouldn’t be wise to stand so back. But the Mayor seemed uncharacteristically curt about the matter, and no amount of subtle questioning would get any results.  
  
 _This isn’t war, Mayor, this is genocide._  
  
Alone in his tent, Alex Louis Armstrong tried to forget the pleading coming from the empty armor and figure out a way to explain the situation without it having terrible repercussions to his men.  
  
He wondered what his sister would do in such a situation, but the thought only served to distress him even more.

* * *

“Calm _down_ , you stupid beast!”  
  
Gluttony howled and charged against Envy, mouth open and eyes unfocussed. The eldest Homunculus sidestepped the attack and snarled as he grabbed one of the chubby hands, using the momentum to swing Gluttony against a wall. By the door, the rest of their small committee stared in morbid fascination as the two immortals fought around the spacious basement.  
  
“Lust!” Gluttony cried out as he stood up slowly, “I want Lust! Dante killed Lust! Dante…”  
  
“I _know_ ,” Envy was panting, not appreciating the fight when he was still too drained from that morning’s disaster, “Okay? I know, just fucking let it _go_.”  
  
Gluttony’s eyes glowed red.  
  
“ _Shit_ ,” Stumbling backwards, the Shape Shifter paled, “Stand back!” When no one reacted, he bodily shoved Wrath and Edward on the others, wincing as the light intensified, making the chubby Homunculus glow.  
  
And then Gluttony threw up.  
  
Groans and green expressions arose in the room, until they noticed the uneven and sharp red stones among the splash of red water. Gluttony clenched his hands on the floor, heaving two or three times more and scattering out a few dozen crystals. When it was over, the chubby immortal sat back, scrubbed the tears on his eyes, before he began sobbing like a child. Already, Envy and Wrath felt the hunger for the stones; the glinting snared them in a way nothing else could, but the Shape Shifter held himself back. Grabbing the youngest Homunculus roughly, Envy shook his head in a warning, and Wrath bit his lip, shifting impatiently.  
  
“Those are-!” Mustang was, as usual, the first to react, his eyes taking a calculative glint as his gaze went from Gluttony to the stones to Envy.  
  
“Whatever Gluttony eats, it’s eventually synthesized into red stones. That’s what Dante made him for,” He narrowed his eyes to slits, baring his teeth warningly and smartly avoiding to point out the fact Gluttony’s diet consisted mostly on humans and living things, “Don’t even _think_ about it, Mustang.”  
  
“Why you-“  
  
“No means _no_ ,” Wrath, irritated and itchy to feed himself, slapped his hands on the dirt, blending a bit of himself in it before turning it into a barrier that shoved the humans out of the room roughly. He sealed the room with a thick wall, then sat down panting, retracting his arms back to himself. He grinned at the older immortal, a starved quality to his eyes. Gluttony continued to sob helplessly.  
  
“I’ll have you know patience _is_ a virtue,” Was Envy’s eventual dry reply, as he studied the solid structure with faint interest.  
  
“And I’ll have you know Wrath’s a sin,” He grinned wolfishly, “But you already knew that.”  
  
Just as he grabbed a handful of stones, he noticed Envy had changed his shape again. He smiled a little when the dark haired woman patted the pitiful Gluttony and tried to calm him down.  
  
To hell with Dante, he thought with a smirk, they’d be alright.

* * *

Ed slammed the door of the room he had been given, not feeling particularly content. A shouting match with the Colonel over Envy and the Homunculi, followed by a scolding from Hawkeye that made him feel like a child again – hadn’t the hell Envy had put them through in the mountains been worth something? Anything? A little respect, maybe? – not to mention the openly questioning looks he received from the rest of Mustang’s staff.  
  
He was _not_ a baby that needed to be taken care of. He was _not_ an imprudent brat – not always, anyway – that needed to be leashed. Most certainly, he _knew_ what he was doing, and that was the end of the argument.  
  
“Trust my ass,” Ed muttered as he threw himself into the squeaky mattress, bitterly remembering those quiet evenings in Mustang’s apartment, with tea and almost peaceful and friendly conversations.  
  
He had honestly thought he and the Colonel had reached an agreement, common ground. But he wasn’t stupid, he was an Alchemist, Equivalent Exchange ruled his life and his world, and of course, of course there was payment for whatever kindness Mustang had offered. Sneezing against the dust in the pillow, Ed twisted around in the bed, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in and hoping against hope that his mind would just shut down for the night.  
  
Of course, the moment he felt remotely comfortable, a wave of questions and half answers crashed on him.  
  
Ed had always been a smart boy, ever since he was little. His father said so, his mother said so, even Al, when he wasn’t busy trying to best him on something, would say that he was the smarter of the two. Ed just wanted to know _everything_ , to understand the why’s and the when’s and the how’s of the universe, to find a way to satisfy the curiosity that always colored his thoughts. He just had an obsessive need to dissect things, situations, emotions, everything. He reduced it to the basics and tried to rebuild it up from there. Maybe that was why he was so good at Alchemy, that was just his natural mindset applied to practice. However, the older he grew, the more complicated things became, the lies, the backstabbing, the double standards, the emotions…  
  
He was just too honest a creature, to fit well within a world of appearances.  
  
In a moment of clarity, Ed realized he was surrounded by hatred, _real_ hatred, something bigger than himself, something that consumed and propelled forward whatever madness they were now entangled in. Envy hated Dante, hated her more than anything in the world, for whatever she had done. Envy hated her enough to be willing to die, as long as she died with him. Wrath hated _him_ , hated him enough to steal his life and twist it over into nothing, for the simple reason he was who he was. Basically and intellectually, he could understand those feelings – as disturbing as it was to feel Wrath’s murderous stare on him every time they met – but not even all his intellect could help him explain what had transpired just a few hours before.  
  
Mustang hated Envy, for killing Hughes and getting away with it, for being stronger than him, for having a smart ass remark to shut him up with, for knowing more than he told them, for, well, _being_ Envy. Ed had acknowledged all those faults a long time ago, ever since he accepted the deal with the Homunculus. He knew it, it irritated him as hell, too, but he knew. He _knew_ Envy was a smug son of a bitch that found entertainment in anything nearby, that he despised humans and considered them inferior, that he relished in killing and murder.  
  
Envy was a monster, period.  
  
Ed somehow knew there was _more_ to him than just that, but it all came down to that fact. Envy was a monster, an insane, bloodthirsty monster hell bent on revenge, and nothing between heaven or hell would stop him from getting it. They were just in for a convenient ride towards their own goals. But to actively spend all that energy in hatred? Hatred for someone who was going to die anyway? He just didn’t get it. Maybe Mustang didn’t know Envy was going to die. But it did seem, well, _petty_ to hold onto resentment so fiercely.  
  
Then again, some would say it was childish to hold onto hope as fiercely as he did.  
  
Throwing his hands up in the air, Ed turned around, forcibly shoving all thoughts of Envy, Mustang and the future out of his mind, and stubbornly setting to sleep. His last coherent thought was about Alphonse, and how his little brother would know what to do in such a case like this.

* * *

Scar wouldn’t admit it, not even under torture, but his heart gave a little leap when the giant armor came into view, reflecting the early morning sunlight. The two chimeras walked behind him, and for a moment, the tall Ishbalan had the image of a messiah and his followers approaching them. He dispelled the silly notion soon enough, but he stored the thought away, to ponder about it later.  
  
“They won’t follow us!” Alphonse seemed even happier than the refugees as he made the announcement, “We’re safe!”  
  
Despite the fact Scar as a rogue and Alphonse an Alchemist, the people around them cheered at the news, gathering around them gratefully. The scarred man felt strangely uncomfortable by the role of leadership he had been entrusted. He didn’t deserve it.  
  
“You told your brother you would meet him in Lior.”  
  
The glowing eyes fixed on him, and Scar regret speaking keenly, but the truth was that they couldn’t afford to remain with the refugees. They were wanted, for different reasons, and they would only place them in more danger by staying. Alphonse remained silent for a long moment, turning his head to look at the people around them. Children, women, old men; all vulnerable and in need of protection. He thought of Ed, away with Envy doing whatever they had planned to do to stop Dante and the military, of Martel and the determination in her eyes.  
  
“I think,” He said slowly, tentatively, “That it would be best if we secure somewhere safe for them, before I go meet my brother, just… to be sure.”  
  
The smallest hint of a smile curled Scar’s lip, making Alphonse feel a lot better with himself. _I’m going brother, I promise. I’m just doing the right thing, like you._

* * *

It was raining the next day. Big droplets of water forming a grey curtain that blocked any sort of visibility and forced the inhabitants of the manor to stay inside. By noon, Breda had trashed all the present in chess enough times to be the receiver of sulking glares of various degrees. The Homunculi were, of course, locked up in the basement where Gluttony had had his little ‘episode’, and had yet to show signs of life.  
  
"Oh, c'mon Jean, just once more," The burly redhead asked as close to whining as he dared, the chair in front of him empty and welcoming, "I'll go easy on you this time, promise."  
  
Havoc replied with a darkened glare, snuggling down on the couch with a book taken from the ornate shelves and pretending his companion didn't exist. Suddenly, Falman, Fuery and Mustang found very interesting patterns to look at, rather than the disappointed expression pending from their friend’s lips, knowing they would submit to slaughter if they so much glanced his way.  
  
The door cracked open slowly, and they turned to face it, expecting Hawkeye to be back from her walk around the upper floors or Edward coming back to the land of the living, and where rather surprised to see a somber, quiet looking Envy slid inside. His feet made no sound as he crossed the room easily, walking at a slow pace – almost tired – to where Breda was sitting. The soldiers tensed, but no explosion came, only the light scraping of the chair against the floor as the Homunculus made himself comfortable against it. After a second of silence, he arched an eyebrow, motioning with his head to the neatly set board, almost daring the redhead. It took Breda a few more seconds to gather his wit, but a white pawn was eventually moved.  
  
Envy grinned.  
  
He played his first game sloppily, and it didn't took Breda more than ten moves to win. Contrary to what they were expecting, the Homunculus didn't burst out in curses or anger; he merely shrugged and began putting the pieces back in place, silently requesting a second game. He lost, again, and the third game, too, but there was something in the way he moved, the eerie calm around him that made them edgy. On his fourth game, Envy made six moves, and Breda suddenly realized he was caged. Moving a bishop almost desperately, he finished closing the trap, and as an elegant, pale finger tipped his king sideways, Breda looked up to see the smug glint in the Sin's eyes, disbelief coloring his features.  
  
The mute audience watched with morbid fascination as the Shape Shifter settled back, arms crossed, almost expectantly awaiting a reaction from the gaping redhead.  
  
"Again?" The burly soldier mumbled frowning, not waiting for an answer as he set the pieces back in place.  
  
"If you promise not to make it a bore," The Sin replied with a shrug, an almost suffering tone in his voice.  
  
Mustang closed the book in his hands rather violently, then stormed out of the room with quick steps. Envy’s grin widened.

* * *

The woman sat by the window, staring at the garden outside in silence. Hawkeye placed the tray by the nightstand, making noise in hopes to be acknowledged, but Rosé ignored her. The dark skinned woman had refused to speak, the only sounds they had heard from her were a keen wailing when they had tried to take the baby away from her arms and a panicked cry when Havoc had placed a hand on her back to steady her steps. The blond officer didn’t know much about her, but from what Ed had told them – shaking with indignation and biting back the need to snarl – she wasn’t like that when he met her.  
  
“Are you cold?” Hawkeye ventured to stand next to her, but Rosé remained silent, slowly rocking the baby in her arms, “I can find you a jacket or a coat if you are.”  
  
Silence, thick and unforgiving.  
  
“You haven’t come out of your room, yet,” Rosé stepped away from the tentative touch on her shoulder, Hawkeye tried to ignore it, “The manor is not much to look at, but you might want to stretch yourself… you’re not being held prisoner, Rosé, you’re free to go wherever you want to.”  
  
When she didn’t receive an answer, the Lieutenant turned on her heel and walked to the door, sighing in defeat.  
  
“Home,” The young mother said suddenly, her voice rusty and broken, “I want to go home.”  
  
Whether Hawkeye had heard her or not, the door closed behind her, and only the occasional sounds of the baby echoed in the lonesome room.

* * *

“You killed Hughes.”  
  
Envy looked up at Mustang, arching an eyebrow at the sight of the man drenched in rain. The chess games ended hours ago, but the climate hadn’t got any better since. Everyone was still hiding in their corners of the manor, away from the chill and trying not to think. Gluttony and Wrath were still in the basement, sharing stories and laughing like children, relishing in a short period of time where the need to kill and destroy was mostly sated. Everyone was away, and if he were to kill the Colonel, no one would know. Just a snap, and the infuriating bastard would be gone, forever.  
  
Ed would be a little bitchy to deal with for a while, and Hawkeye would probably shoot him until either she ran out of bullets or she decided to shoot herself instead, but it would all pass in time. Time, Envy knew, could heal all wounds and erase all memories.  
  
“Yeah,” He smirked, snuggling against the wet grass and closing his eyes instead. He wouldn’t kill Mustang, because that’d make his life easier, and his life simply couldn’t be simple – it was one of those basic rules that keep the universe spinning. “Enjoyed it too, if you’re wondering. Just a little bang while he was busy ogling at me, and then it was over.”  
  
“I see,” Mustang replied tersely, clenching his hands reflexively and probably feeling as helpless as he was.  
  
The silence was uncomfortable, but Envy didn’t mind. He was used to uncomfortable silences, to being the cause and the receiver of them, so he didn’t care. Mustang grinded his teeth, apparently expecting him to say something, anything, and justify a fight Envy was not going to give him.  
  
“I’m not going to forgive you.” An eyebrow rose as the man exploded, “I don’t care if Edward or Riza or the others do. I’m not going to forget it and I’m not going to forgive you. Bastard.”  
  
Envy stood up, rolling his shoulders and cracking his back, and stared at Mustang with boredom. The man was panting wildly, maybe panicking a little, expecting retaliation. Instead, Envy smirked and shrugged off the words, carelessly.  
  
“I don’t need your forgiveness anymore than you need mine.”  
  
Then he began walking back into the manor, noting it was night already and figuring they would leave some time the next day. He left Mustang standing in the rain, staring in shock at his back, and didn’t care a bit about it.  
  
 _I don’t need it._

* * *

Ed awoke the moment something – or rather someone – sat on him. Struggling against the sheets and the weight that was constricting his chest, he threw a few blind hits until his vision cleared, and he caught sight of a feral looking Envy. Ed didn’t like the sight.  
  
“What are you doing here?” The blond hissed angrily, trying in vain to shake the annoying Homunculus off him, “Get _off_.”  
  
“What would you give up?” Envy tilted his head to the side, a strange insane enlightment sparkling behinds his eyes, and ignored Ed’s protests, “For the sake of restoring your brother, what would you give up? How far would you take the risk?”  
  
It didn’t seem one of Envy’s games, his face was too serious for that, so Ed took a moment to calm down, breath deeply and actually process the question. Moving to a sitting position – and noting distantly that Envy had yet to remove himself from his person – the blond frowned slightly.  
  
“You know that, everything,” He scowled, “I’d give up everything to keep my promise.”  
  
“Really?” Envy’s eyes turned, if possible, brighter, “Even your life?”  
  
Ed froze. Those eerie purple eyes were pinning him down, judging him without words as he gaped for a moment. What the hell was the Homunculus getting at anyway? Scowl becoming more pronounced, Ed answered finally, with the truth.  
  
“Yes, I’d give up my life too, if that’s what it’d take to get Al back.”  
  
In less than a second, Envy was off him, standing by the doorway.  
  
“Get dressed, we have work to do.”  
  
“Wha- what’s going on?” Fighting the covers and managing somehow to not end up face first on the floor, Ed rubbed sleep from his eyes.  
  
Envy grinned, that wide, malicious grin of his, the one that set the hairs on Ed’s neck standing.  
  
“I’ve got a plan.”

* * *

“The reason why making a Philosopher’s stone is so damn hard, is because you only need the soul to create it,” Envy snorted, “But the mind is a stubborn bitch that just doesn’t let go and keeps trying to anchor the soul back into the body. It takes an unholy amount of effort to split soul from body, and since Dante’s too weak to do it herself, she has always used others to do her dirty job.”  
  
“But the inhuman are mindless, right?” Ed thought he had a decent grasp of the subject, “So now that she knows how to make the… ingredients, she can create all the stones she wants.”  
  
“Which is fucking bad for anyone breathing air, yes.” The Shape Shifter nodded, pointing to the array he had grudgingly lead Ed through creating, “So that’s why we’re going to best her in her own game. We need something more powerful than a Philosopher’s stone, so we’re going to open a Field of Chance.”  
  
“Field of Chance?” Ed scratched his head, eyes traveling around the various notes scattered in the floor of the library, finally fixing his gaze on the _stupidly_ simple array that had resulted from over seven hours of reading, fighting, discussing and insulting each other. “I still don’t get it.”  
  
“The Gate has a certain level of sentience, of…” Envy waved a hand, searching for the right word, “Being. A consciousness if you want. If you can, somehow, take its place, if only for a second, all the laws in reality, including your beloved equivalent exchange, would become null,” The Homunculus shrugged, “Or you would implode and explode at the same time, and end up reduced to such minimal components your existance would be erased from the fabric of the universe.”  
  
“Yeah…” Ed tried to get his heartbeat back to normal, “But it would bring Al back, no rebounds.”  
  
“In theory, yes,” Envy smiled nastily, “Or you’d end up decorating the space between molecules. Either way, Dante dies, I die, your brat of a brother gets his body back and everyone’s happy. Except you, maybe, since if it goes wrong, you’ll be a bit too… well, non-existent to be happy.”  
  
Ed let out a long breath, dizzy. He laid back on the floor, staring at the ceiling for a long moment, ignoring the pleased look in Envy’s face. Really, the Homunculus looked like his birthday had come early, or something. Then again, the plan would, in theory, accomplish his goals and leave Ed dead – possibly – so he _had_ reasons to be happy.  
  
“This is fucking brilliant,” The blond Alchemist said after a long moment, blinking in bewilderment, “Insane and suicidal, but brilliant.”  
  
“I know,” Envy grinned, “Makes four hundred years of late nights over boring books worth it, doesn’t it?”  
  
Ed wished he could reply something, _anything_ , to counter the wiseass tone in Envy’s voice, but it was brilliant – _insane_ , but brilliant – and he couldn’t really deny that.

* * *

Ed awoke rudely by the furious roar of something that was most certainly not human. Stumbling out of the library as he dispelled the last of sleep out of his mind, he rushed down the corridor, the stairs and the main door, catching up with Havoc and Breda as they hurried out into the large backyard, guns ready and automail turned into a blade. They stopped abruptly as the scene unfolded before them.  
  
Envy, once more wearing the colossal body of a snake – snake, dragon, leviathan, motherfucking _big_ reptile – was constricting a woman with his tail, roaring in anger and, Ed was sure, sadistic glee as her bones cracked.  
  
Mustang was yelling something, threatening Envy most likely, and Hawkeye had her gun raised and pointing at the large head, though she seemed doubtful of her own ability against the immortal. Wrath and Gluttony stood behind them, watching curiously as their _de facto_ leader slowly killed the woman. Falman, Ed noted distantly, looked between shocked, afraid and hysterical, at the same time maintaining his face blank.  
  
Then Ed reacted, and Envy let out a howl of pain when the spike of rock pierced cleanly through the soft spot below his jaw, where his head attached to his neck.  
  
The woman fell to the ground with a dry thud, twitching, and Envy turned over to Ed, eyes blazing with the promise of retribution.  
  
“Stop acting like a fucking _animal_!” The blond yelled over in anger, frustration and annoyance, their long conversation the night – morning? – before crashing over him with all its repercussions and demanding an outlet.  
  
Envy roared again, the wound healed already, before he turned and burrowed into the ground, not bothering to change shapes and only leaving a giant hole in the middle of the garden, so deep, they couldn’t see how far it went.  
  
“Well,” Martel said between breathy laughter, rolling to the side as her broken ribs slowly healed themselves, “I bet your gardener won’t fix that one.”

* * *

Two days, and all the pieces were in the board. Two days, and they were all stuffed into a tiny train compartment, sharing air and crankiness. Two days, and Ed started to realize what his deal with Envy entitled. He watched the Homunculus, wearing Fuery’s face – Fuery, who was too relieved to stay back and take care of Rosé and her baby – and making a fool out of Havoc, noting how the Colonel’s hands clenched and unclenched rhythmically on the cloth of his pants. He watched how Envy shrugged off the deadliest of Hawkeye’s glares, smirking in just the right way to make Breda nervous. He watched Envy slowly ticking Falman off, at the same time insulting him methodically.  
  
Envy amused himself through out the train ride, and no one asked where Gluttony and Wrath were, why he was in such a… well, non-violent mood or why Ed was suddenly so somber.  
  
 _I’m going to kill you_ , Ed thought as Envy grinned and Havoc stumbled through his words again, trying to save face. _I’m going to kill you. You deserve to die._ But the thought was not enough to make his insides stop fluttering or his pulse come down to a reasonable speed.  
  
“Stop it!” Havoc cried out in irritation, eyes narrowed and voice roughed with anger, “Just, _fuck_ , stop it.”  
  
“What?” Envy leaned against the seat, doing such a good imitation of Fuery’s innocent face, the blond sniper took a moment to remind himself he was _not_ Fuery.  
  
“Stop smirking!”  
  
At Ed’s right, Mustang clenched his hands again, and Breda turned a page on his book calling forth patience he didn't have anymore. Falman was snoring softly, his head against the window and his mouth slightly open. Hawkeye simply sighed in defeat.  
  
Two days, and it had been already too much of Envy to last them all a life time.  
  
“What, now it’s illegal to smirk?” The Homunculus did just that, “Bite me.”  
  
“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not going to work, okay?” Havoc was way past annoyance. He wanted a smoke and a reason to shoot the grinning bastard, and he wasn’t going to get any of it. “There’s just so many times you can trick someone before it stops working.”  
  
“Okay,” Envy said in a particularly magnanimous voice, “Say pork.”  
  
“No!”  
  
“Oh, you can’t?” The Fuery that wasn’t Fuery shook his head dramatically, “Well, I _should_ have known that a-“  
  
“Pork.”  
  
Envy grinned, and Hawkeye closed her eyes to mentally count to ten.  
  
“Three times,” The Shape Shifter raised an eyebrow, challengingly.  
  
“Pork, pork, pork.”  
  
“Now spell it.”  
  
Breda closed his book, acknowledging the fact he would not be able to finish it with the racket that’s starting over the ashes of the last one. Really, Havoc should have learned already.  
  
“P-O-R-K. Pork.” The blond looked vexed, annoyed and wanting to strangle something, and he hissed his answer through clenched teeth.  
  
Mustang looked out through the window, trying to calculate if he could get away with frying Envy at such short distance without injuring anyone. Maybe scalding Havoc a bit; he deserved it, really, for being an _idiot_.  
  
“Okay,” Envy said in a fake impressed voice, “So, what do you eat soup with?”  
  
“With a _fork_!” Havoc declared triumphantly, standing up abruptly and almost falling face first when the inertia of the train caught up with him.  
  
Falman blinked out of sleep as Breda groaned and Hawkeye bit her lip to hide a smile.  
  
“Well, congratulations,” The Homunculus grinned as Havoc blinked, “Me and the rest of the world use a _spoon_ , sucker.”  
  
Ed stormed out of the small compartment before he did something stupid, the sound of Envy’s raucous laughter stinging more than it should have. Two minutes later, Mustang fled after him, not standing the sight of his subordinates – his _friends_ – sharing a laugh along with a murderer.

* * *

“Why are you doing this?” Envy arched an eyebrow as Ed approached him, boldly and tired, or perhaps boldly because he was tired.  
  
He shrugged.  
  
“Because.”  
  
“You’re going to die. To be gone, disappear, not be here anymore.” The immortal amused himself with Ed’s little existential crisis, and shrugged again when the brat just clenched his hands into fists at his sides.  
  
“Don’t tell me you’re going to miss me.” Envy laughed at the notion, because it was silly, and no one was ever going to miss him and he was _fine_ with that, he didn’t want to be missed.  
  
“No!” The blond bit his lip, looking sideways, “Just… just… _why_?”  
  
“Same reason you’re willing to risk your life,” Envy shrugged, then looked at Ed in the eye, “What’s the point of being alive, if you can’t get what you want out if?”

* * *

_No fear. No joy. No cruelty._ _No mercy._  
  
Envy mentally repeated the words as a mantra, tasting them as a whisper within his mind. He felt stupidly nervous. He glanced around, the small group of officials, those Mustang seemed to trust with his very life, were shifting around anxiously, waiting. The rest of the unit – the one Mustang was supposed to command and lead into Lior, according to Pride’s plans – was stationed further away, where they could not see what was going to happen.  
  
 _Good_ , the Homunculus thought snidely, _there’s nothing worth watching here_.  
  
He felt… giddy. The stupid Colonel had made a racket when he unkindly informed him they could not risk the plan to save the unlucky troops that had been stationed in Lior – not that much remained of Lior anyway, as it had been burnt to the ground when Scar had taken the refugees away – and that was it. He had also made a racket when not even Ed would tell him what the so called plan was about, only that it involved a lot of people dying for the sake of stopping Dante and that he better kept away from them. For some reason, Envy had felt a gaping emptiness within, rather than the satisfying rush of murder, when he saw the hatred boiling under Mustang’s well crafted mask. It had taken him almost all night, but he had figured it out in the end.  
  
His bloodlust was gone.  
  
It had been so ridiculous, so utterly _stupid_ that he had sat down and _laughed_. Laughed hysterically for nearly a whole hour, until Hawkeye came by and shot him until he finally fell silent. _It fits_ , he mused, watching as the last unit entered the perimeter of the city, _that I would choose precisely this moment to start remembering what humanity feels like_. He couldn’t really see it, but he knew the array was there. Encompassing the whole city, the poor idiots that were being led into their deaths like lambs to slaughter.  
  
And in the center, if he strained his eyes and dilated his slitted pupils almost into large black circles, he could see a young woman that reeked of cheated death – _her name is, was, had been, Lyra, whatever_ , he thought absently, detached, _she had an interesting smirk_. And then he thought no more of victims. Dante was doing this because she was doomed. Because her body, even merely weeks after the transfer, was already falling apart. Gluttony was gone and Pride had been sealed. _Hopefully_ , he added as an after thought, _after all, Ed is not really known for his ability to do things as smoothly as he should_.  
  
He chose not to wonder when exactly he had gone from ‘f _ucking idiot_ ’ to ‘ _pipsqueak_ ’ to ‘ _bastard_ ’ to ’ _Ed_ ’. Envy was happy this was happening before he had a chance to go into ‘ _brother_ ’. He shuddered violently at the notion.  
  
“It’s starting,” His voice sounded almost empty, and he felt as if he had been burning, bright, so bright… and he was suddenly dying out. Embers that remained after a great fire.  
  
Envy cursed at the Gate and Gods he didn’t believe in for giving him a poetic notion – which would have killed a few centuries of boredom, _a few centuries ago_ – exactly at that point, when it was bothersome rather than amusing. The Gate and the Gods hated him, he concluded, as the group of soldiers clustered behind him, watching as the city glowed red. There was a whirling twist of Alchemic energy as the array flared to life. He could have drew that shape with his eyes closed, and for a moment, he felt a stab of something that very well could have been guilt pierce through him, cleanly. If he hadn’t been so… so _stupid_ , as to let Dante find that diary. If he hadn’t been so bored, as to write down that stupid theory. If he hadn’t been so curious as to wonder about the nature of the stone.  
  
“You’re late,” Said Envy with a distinct reprimand on his voice, and the men around him jumped slightly, startled.  
  
“Yeah, well,” Ed walked over to him, clothes in disarray and favoring his left shoulder, “Fuck you, your _little brother_ -“ Envy bared his teeth in a snarl, and Hawkeye tightened her jaw, “Tried to make Fillet of Fullmetal for dinner and Flame Slices for desert,” The blonde walked towards him, until he was standing right next to Envy. Mustang stood a little behind, glaring at him with resentment and annoyance as he kept his distance. Both stank of blood and decay, “It was not pleasant.”  
  
“Getting killed rarely is,” The Homunculus informed him unkindly, phrasing his meaning just so, that Ed flinched.  
  
Havoc took a drag of his cigarette as Mustang flexed his fingers, rubbing his thumb and index finger together. Irrationally, Envy found he hated the sound of ignition cloth rustling together anxiously. They continued to watch in silence as the array slowly consumed everything within. Finally, the light died, and they could see the deformed shapes of what had been soldiers lounging around. Envy clicked his tongue. They had a ten minute gap to act, before Dante could gather her wits around her to activate the second array or send the groaning mass of animated corpses against them.  
  
“Ready for this?” And Envy _hated_ Ed, hated him so vehemently, for sounding small and rueful and _guilty_.  
  
“I’ve been ready for four hundred sixty something years,” He told him with a sneer, “Don’t drag this out with pointless human melodrama.”  
  
Ed blew a raspberry at him, trying to cover the stone silence that had fallen the officers around them. They didn’t know, they _couldn’t_ know, but his very words and movements spoke louder than the silence he had instigate about the matter. Envy wondered why he was wasting time, waiting for Ed to make a proper reply before he threw himself into the fray.  
  
“One day, someone will come here and write a story about this,” The Fullmetal Alchemist said softly, grinning wryly, “And when they do, I’ll come out of my grave and _laugh_ at you, when they turn _your_ life into a Harlequin piece of shit.”  
  
Turning his eyes from the destroyed city, Envy graced them all with a last amused grin. Then he jumped forward with inhuman strength, barely touching he sand with his feet when he was up in the air again.  
  
He took a moment to smile.

* * *

Scar was tired.  
  
The exodus had been tedious at best and he still had to deal with all those mixed feelings inside him. At his side, his companion rattled with each shuffling step he took. For an irrational moment, the Ishbalan thought perhaps he too was tired, then dismissed the notion. Alphonse didn’t need drink or food or sleep. No, he needed his brother, and the dark skinned man felt a pang of _something_ inside him that told him he was less than a scum-eating beast for dragging the poor boy away from home.  
  
 _He agreed to come_ , he argued against himself, frowning, _I didn’t force him, I merely asked_. But then that little vicious part of him would snort loudly and remind him the price he had put on the boy’s help. _He came, but only because you made him believe he could save his brother that way._  
  
Scar cringed inwardly.  
  
“Are you alright?” Glowing eyes looked at him, and he could just picture the boy frowning ever so slightly.  
  
“I’m fine,” He lied, and felt miserable as he did, “We will be there soon.”  
  
Alphonse nodded, metal rattling again and seemed to beam at him. Scar tried not to figure out _when_ he had become so dexterous at reading the emotions off an animated suit of armor and instead told his complaining feet to shut the hell up and take it like men.  
  
He had the sinking feeling he was getting blisters upon blisters from all the walking he had done in the past few weeks.  
  
He found, after another look at his strangely silent companion, that he really didn’t care.

* * *

_“No fear. Fear comes from the unknown, and you know where fighting will lead you. Either victory or death, nothing else matters. Fear is for cowards who kill at midnight, for thieves who hide from sunlight. Fear is the flag of the traitors. Fear is not meant for a warrior.”_

  
It was art, really. The second he approached the barren city, his hands melted into claws and his throat let out a primal growl. The first body he hit was sliced cleanly, and he ignored the sound of bone and muscle snapping under the sheer force of his attack. He arched and twisted, dancing to a song only he could hear, feet barely touching the sand as he made a beeline to the center of the array, the center of the city. He felt the bony hands clawing at him, scratching and tearing skin and cloth, but he was too busy killing them off to care. He knew he was bleeding and that his body was being torn apart, but he didn’t care. He had to reach her.  
  
He just _had_ to.  
  
He heard bone cracking and blood spilling, but not even then he slowed down. His latest victim had not yet hit the floor when he was onto the next, and the one afterwards, always. He did not look back, did not care to see the destruction he was leaving behind. He did not want to see the path he had just opened, closing as more of the undead things came. Always more.  
  
He struggled to keep his mind blank. To ignore the burning feel of skin and flesh tearing and the icy knowledge his body would regenerate and keep doing it for as long as he kept breathing. To maintain the coiling snake under his skin, engraved over the blood and the wounds and the pain and everything else that was just _not_ important.

_“No joy. You fight to protect, to defend, to preserve. You fight to conquer, to consume, to destroy. You exist only when you are moving, when your body becomes a weapon and your whole existence a goal. You do not fight for enjoyment, you fight for purpose.”_

  
He tried not to think about Ed and his stupid guilty frown and his hot headed temper barely kept on check as they threaded through a mountain trail. Or Havoc and his stupid nicotine craving that always left him wondering what was so great about smoking anyway and his enraged scowl when he got the better of him again. Or Alphonse and his stupid novels and stupid chocolate bars and stupid wise words that made him feel a bit less chilly in the hours before dawn. Or Mustang and his stupid scowl that just made him itch to punch him and then spoon his stupid eyes out. Or Falman and his stupid nervous ticks and furrowed brows. Or Breda and his stupid skill at chess and the stupid double meanings he made out of everything he said. Or Hawkeye and her stupid dog and her stupid guns and her stupid smug smirk after she shot him. Or Xi Tze and her unending line of stupid successors and their stupid need to bow to him as if he deserved it. Or Xi Feng and her stupid grin whenever she did something right and her stupid pout whenever she messed up. Or Lust and her stupid expression when she saw something new and her stupid need to pet his hair when he was sulking. Or Wrath and his stupid smile and his stupid need to _cling_ to someone. Or Elysia and her stupid questions and her stupid arrays and her stupid beaming smile whenever he agreed to tell her a story.  
  
Or the stupid smile in the mirror, the last day they spent in the manor, when he looked at his face for the last time to see if he still looked as silly as he remembered.  
 _  
I don’t need you. I **never** needed you._  
  
He pushed them away, and only allowed thoughts of Dante to get through.  
  
Dante, who used to scold him for mixing with commoners and getting dirty doing hard work. Dante, who shrieked at him whenever his father left for more than a day and she had no one else to let her frustrations out on. Dante, who stared morbidly at him when his immortality shone through. Dante, who chased him around the country, laughing at his pitiful attempts to regain what he had lost. Dante, who ordered him to kill, knowing he hated and loved the rush that came with it. Dante, who had killed Lust because she made him laugh. Dante, who killed and manipulated and took away everything and everyone around him and who never saw him as anything else but a mean to an end. Dante, who had pushed Hohenheim away. Dante, who had made his father abandon him and feel disgusted with the thing he had become.  
  
Dante, Dante, Dante…  
  
Envy howled in endless fury as he sped up his pace, adding more jumping to the mix, to get free of the constricting mass of decaying bodies. The stench was horrible and he realized faintly he was missing a finger in his left hand. _Oh well_ , that wry part of his mind that was still paying attention to details mused with a shrug, _I never really liked my hands much anyway, they’re **dead**_. He felt the blood pour out, from a thousand and one little scratches and wounds and tears, as the shell of his body finally _felt_ what it was like to be really injured.

_“No cruelty. You are not a petty child nor are you an arrogant beast. Cruelty is only fit for those who await death with open arms. If your task is to kill, then kill cleanly. If your task is to harm, then harm smartly. Do not be idle and do not taint your honor by prolonging your opponent’s misery. Foul entertainment, cruelty is only befit of monsters.”_

  
Suddenly, he had a blinding moment of clarity, and he decided he hated his father. No, not hated, _hated_. The scorching type that made his veins burn and his eyes become bloodshot. _If you had let things be_ , he thought angrily, _I would not be here_. As he twisted in the air to avoid having his head cut off –fixing up a beheaded body was _so_ annoying, especially in the middle of a suicidal fight – he caught sight of the small dot of blue and glaring red, far away, where those he had dragged into his personal crusade were standing, watching, staring… horrified. _If you had let things be_ , he snarled as he torn the beast that was trying to hold him back into two clean halves, _they wouldn’t be watching this_. He closed his eyes for a moment, though his movements never faltered, merely going along the natural flow of the fight.  
  
 _If you had let things be, I would not be a monster._  
  
He took another moment, remembering his little show back in Xerxes. He thought of all the Homunculi that had been, that had never gotten the chance to be. Those he had consumed and those he had killed. He thought of them, of their lost power and broken existence. He came to a painful realization. _Am I really the last one?_ But then he remembered the smallest one, the wild child with the human smile, and the older creature with a need of guidance. _Perhaps I am_.  
  
He wrapped his hand on the head of a snarling beast and _squeezed_ , until it bursted in a mess of brains that was disgustingly sticky and which clung to his clothes. Distantly, he remembered having always avoided shooting someone in the head, if only so that he didn’t have to clean up the mess. The snake within him smiled, seemingly twisting along each blow, dancing to a nocturne as a strange lethargic feeling began to crawl his limbs.

_“No mercy. To fight is to kill. Always think of your opponents and yourself as if you were already dead, so when the moment comes, you will not feel troubled. The purpose of the Fight is to destroy the enemy, do not taint its honor with pointless emotion. Emotion makes you weak. Mercy makes you weak.”_

  
And then he saw her. Still far away, still protected by her faithful brainless monsters. She probably thought Mustang’s unit was going to join the fray at some point, so she was mostly uncaring if he killed a few dozen, or hundred, or thousand of her new pets. Envy snarled, and felt his pupils slit to the point they almost disappeared.  
  
Long time ago, he had shuddered as the old crone taught him the most efficient way to kill someone. He had turned green and, if he were completely honest with himself, he had been sick at least twice during the lesson, when she described the effects of each slice and hit. He had crossly told her he was a scholar and not a murderer, but truth was, he didn’t think he could deal with having blood staining his hands.  
  
Almost five hundred years later, Vyktor Elric was but a faint memory, hidden away in the folds of a mind belonging to a monster who went by the name of Envy, and who had more blood on his hands than in his veins.  
  
He howled again, opening the path, struggling to keep his body in one piece for long enough. He was too far away still. His heart was thundering in his chest and his temples, and his lungs seemed to be suddenly filled with lead, heaving wildly as he buckled and pushed and twisted and killed.  
  
 _These were men_ , he realized with a startling clarity, feeling his stomach wrench for some reason, _less than an hour ago, these were men._  
  
She turned to face him, and though he couldn’t see it, he knew she was arching an eyebrow at him, in the same condescending manner she had done so for centuries, even as he broke through to her. The beasts regrouped and closed the thin path he had managed to create for himself, but he didn’t care. She was smiling at him, mocking him, belittling his attempts and declaring herself winner without right. He felt the rotten hands holding him back, pulling tightly as they tried to keep him away from her, and he snarled.  
  
Mother.  
  
Dante.  
  
Master.  
  
“Monster.”  
  
She laughed at him, shrilly and smugly, and he couldn’t hear it, but he _knew_. As if his struggles were in vain. As if she was better than him. _I own you_ , her words made his body tense as he remembered. _I’ve always have_. Envy stopped, feeling the cold – how could they be colder than him? He was _dead_ – bodies slam against him, suffocating in their numbers as he was almost buried under them.  
  
Even as he was slowly pushed to his knees, as the weight of the screeching mass he wouldn’t be able to kill alone crushed him to the ground, he smiled. It was serene smile, and Dante would have frozen upon seeing it. It was the smile of a dying man who had made amends with life and was ready to set the gamble with death.  
  
 _I know what you did… I forgive you._  
  
With a defying screech, Envy felt his insides being torn apart as he glowed. The screech turned into a growl, loud, feral, powerful. He felt the stone pulsing on itself, his insides pumping as he grew and grew and grew, all scales and hatred and injustice. The giant snake roared again, circling Dante as it slithered its body and stretched the sore muscles. Large violet eyes fixed on the small human woman, now longer feeling the inhuman clawing at the hard scales. He couldn’t feel, couldn’t hear, couldn’t taste, couldn’t see anything else but Dante standing there, watching him with wide eyes, horror struck, imaging the worst.  
  
Envy twisted his long body, raising his tail as the loop was formed perfectly. Distantly, he saw a small dot of red at the edge of the city. _Good_ , he would have grinned, but instead let out another fearsome roar, _good_. There was a flash of pain as his fangs cut through his own scales cleanly, and then the clap echoed through his mind, loud, clear…

_“No fear. No joy. No cruelty._ _No mercy. Just blood splattering the floor and a heartbeat echoing for the last time.”_

  
And then, Dante, Lior and himself ceased to exist in the next heartbeat.

* * *

It hurt, but his anger burned higher. Higher than pain, higher than humiliation, higher than Pride.  
  
He let out a strangled howl as he staggered forward, grinding his teeth as his arm slowly regenerated back and vowing to make the little shits who had cut it off in the first place pay it with blood. Allowing some of his weight to rest on his sword, he staggered forward, paying no mind to the arid land or the vicious scent of carnage ahead of him.  
  
He wanted to _kill_.  
  
And then he saw them, the suit of armor and the Ishbalan, and they weren’t _them_ , but they were a start. Pride clutched his sword to the point he thought it’d snap in halves, and then he changed directions, away from the military camp and those there – those he was going to _kill_ soon enough – and stalked his new prey. He didn’t care about the light show going on in the city, the strange glow, or the animal roar, or the stench, or anything.  
  
All Pride cared about was retribution and making them pay for the humiliation; and pay they would, in blood.

* * *

_Oh God, oh God, oh God…_  
  
Ed thought up a litany of prayers to Gods he really didn’t believe in, but just in case, as he watched the blur of color speed through the almost swinging mass of inhuman that resembled the waves at a seashore. Not that he had ever seen a seashore before, but he remembered, once, when he was small, that his father told him about it.  
  
For some reason, he felt his insides twist and made a rather displeasing flip flops at the thought.  
  
“Is he _insane_?” Havoc’s voice finally broke their moment of silent staring, the cigarette hanging precariously from his lips as they saw Envy make his way through the crowd, slowly.  
  
“Suicidal, more the like,” Mustang muttered, and there was an uncomfortable shift in Ed’s shoulders, but he didn’t say a thing.  
  
“It’s a good thing, then,” Falman mused after a moment, surprising everyone by the thoughtfulness of his voice, “That he can’t really die.”  
  
“I don’t know,” Breda shifted his weight from foot to foot, and the rifle they had weighted him with from shoulder to shoulder as he frowned, “He’s moving too carelessly, too slow… Shouldn’t he’d turned into something larger before getting there? It’d be easier.”  
  
There was another moment of quiet shuffling as they watched with morbid curiosity the graceful movements, or rather, the break in the monsters’ lines as the Homunculus moved forward.  
  
“I’m just glad he’s technically on our side,” Falman admitted after a while, shivering, “I really wouldn’t want to try my luck against him.”  
  
“No, probably not,” Havoc snorted, then spit his cigarette, only half way done, into the shifting sand. For some reason he found he didn’t want it anymore, “You’re too quiet, boss.”  
  
The adults turned to their youngest companion, and found Ed with his hands clenched tightly at his sides, his jaw set so firmly it had to hurt. His eyes were glued on the tiny dot of movement. Hawkeye watched him at her name sake, brown eyes narrowed as she took in her nervousness and tried to piece it together with his actions and words of the past week. Her eyes widened slightly when he swallowed hard.  
  
Envy reached his mark, pausing for a second and disappearing under those… _things_ for a moment that felt like hours, before he reappeared and continued struggling.  
  
That was his call, his cue, his signal…  
  
“This better work,” Ed muttered almost absently, then started running.  
  
He heard the surprised calls from his companions, but he knew that if he looked back, he was not going to pull through. The sand made his steps uneven and he felt automail sinking under its weight, but he kept going. He had to, they had made a deal.  
  
And Ed had never gone back on his word, he wasn’t planning to start at the moment, no matter what terrible, nasty things keeping his word entitled.  
  
As he approached the perimeter of the city, he caught a hold of the horrible stench that clung to the place. It was an unearthly mix of death and burnt flesh, something that made his stomach twist again in a wholly uncomfortable fashion. Of course, with what he had to do ahead of him, few things could be really comfortable. Trying to ignore the smell and the sun, which was just making things worse, he had a brief instant to remember going to Lior the first time. Chasing Al through the desert, playing silly with the sand, and then there was Cornello and Rose and Lyra…  
  
Suddenly the weight of all the people he had met, talked to, made friends with during the madness that had been his journey made sense to him, made sense to the oppressing feeling of what he was about to do.  
  
He stopped as suddenly as he had started running, and waited. He risked a small glance to where Mustang and the others were, watching in the distance the blue dots of color that thankfully, _thankfully_ had decided to listen to him for once and didn’t moved from their spot. He felt his lips twisting into a grimace, then he turned back to what remained of Lior.  
  
Sweat trickled down his spine.  
  
Ed decided the wrenched things Dante had made out of the poor unsuspecting military units were rather pitiful. They stank of rot and they looked like abandoned puppets, guideless, powerless. The groaning mass seemed to sway to the rhythm of a song, timeless, as if they could understand the depths they had fallen.  
  
Of course, the particular song at the moment seemed to have much ‘ _kill Envy, kill him now_ ’ in it, and Ed felt his stomach revolt again.  
  
 _Maybe_ , he thought, _maybe there’s another way, another choice_ … But the memory of the thunderous scowl of the Homunculus as they had jerkily returned from Nauru was enough to make him reconsider. _You gave him your word_ , an until then unknown part of Ed, which sounded suspiciously like his father, berated him, _he’s asking this of you, because he wants you to. He needs you to.  
_  
The blonde felt the gust of wind against his skin, took a deep breath and began counting. It was tedious and taxing, just standing there, watching the deformed creatures move around, completely ignoring him as they concentrated on their task. His mind hated him, really, as he began taking metal notes about the changes the human body suffered once it became an ‘ingredient’. Ed licked his dried lips as he tried to push that stupid train of thought out and away from him. He looked at the city, felt his coat billow slightly against the breeze and felt his eyes water under the sting of sand.  
  
“I’m sorry,” His voice was crumbling at the edges and it seemed a melon had lodged into his throat, constricting slowly and making breathing nothing short of a strenuous effort, “I’m really, _really_ sorry.”  
  
He told himself he was not crying, even when he felt the traitorous tears sliding down his cheeks. The first roar startled him, the second merely grounded his resolve. Things were no longer going as they had planned them, but the sudden appereance of the snake was enough for him to work with. He watched, forced himself to watch, the exact moment when the jaws clamped down on the tail, the perfect circle held together precariously for an instant.  
  
Then he clapped his hands and all hell broke loose.

* * *

_Kill me after she’s gone, Colonel, but I won’t let you until she’s dead._

  
It started with a low hum that slowly unfolded into a powerful roar of earth. From a distance, those who could still see Lior, saw the muted glow of red that rose to the sky, before enveloping chimeras, buildings and sand, into the whirlpool of energy that sucked everything to a concentrated dot of pulsing red. To a body that glowed as the old souls from Xerxes were given a final chance to scream to the heavens.  
  
Edward felt himself being dragged by the force of the vortex and didn’t resist it, he welcomed it. With a last backward glance to the soldiers in the distance, he smiled and began walking towards the center of the light, where the stone within Envy was revived, consuming everything around. He felt the edge of reality burn away, but he didn’t care, he had to touch it and make things right. He had to restore Al, even if it was too late for him already. He owed him.

_I can’t even begin to explain how **pathetic** you are._

  
Al looked at the unmoving body, feeling tears falling from eyes he didn’t have. He watched mesmerized as the blood slowly oozed into the sand. He had created, for him. Looking up at the gasping Pride, Alphonse smiled a smile no one would see.  
  
“I’ll see you soon, Scar,” He charged against the Homunculus, instinctively knowing the dangers of the red light that had wrapped around Lior and which had consumed the last of the monsters, “I promise.”  
  
He jumped, dragging a struggling Pride with him, feeling strangely content as the armor was torn apart by the furious energy of the stone. Scar opened his eyes for a moment, dizzy and light headed from the blood loss, staring unseeing at the disintegrating armor and the shrieking Pride.  
  
He thought he saw a small blonde boy with bright blue eyes smiling lovingly at him, when the armor was consumed, and then, there was darkness.

_I don’t have to do anything if I don’t want to._

  
“That… that _bastard_.”  
  
The group of soldiers jumped in surprise as the Colonel barked the insult, choked within a helpless laugh. They watched the glowing ether around the city, the slow consumption of everything inside, not understanding _how_ , but pretty sure _why_. They were suddenly reminded of the lithe figure stalking the corners of the manor, the snide remarks, the subtle pointers, the morbid disregard for life, the quiet words about death.  
  
“He knew,” Hawkeye felt the need to laugh alongside her superior, “He always knew… he used us.”  
  
“If he always wanted this…” Havoc shuddered, not wanting to consider the notion.  
  
“Then we…” Roy grinned, face pale as he watched Edward disappear among the red light, “We…”  
  
“We murdered them,” And even as the glow grew brighter, no one bothered to contradict Hawkeye.

_What’s the point of being alive, if you can’t get what you want?_

  
Ed saw him, though he didn’t know how or why. He knew his body was gone, he felt it was gone. He was only a will, a strong will with a single prayer in mind. Still, he moved forward, willed himself forward, until he could see the center of the destruction, until he could see Envy, glowing and breaking and gone and dying.  
  
“You’ll have your wish, Pipsqueak,” Came the mocking voice from the still lips, the knowing glint in the haunting undead eyes, “Make it worth it.”  
  
He sounded tired, almost gone. Edward felt the power buzzing around, the souls screeching as they were forced into the Homunculus’ body, the jaded stone within him; he was the original Sin, greedily taking in all the new power it was given.  
  
“I want it to be as it should have,” Ed reached with a hand he didn’t have to touch Envy, glaring determinately at enemies he couldn’t see, “I want my brother back.”

_I don’t need your forgiveness anymore than you need mine._

  
Envy seemed to embrace him, and the light began to fracture the shell of a body that simply didn’t exist, glaring red cracks as the power of the sacrifice spun out of control. Edward felt dizzy, a head he didn’t have aching terribly as he saw Envy disintegrate into light, all the souls that fueled him escaping. The Gate, a different Gate, wide, circular, engraved in golden – _when you get the chance, The Gate will bend to your will, if you have the will_ – looming and forbidding as it had looked when his father had walked through it, and it opened slowly to accept the sacrifice of souls. The dark shadows gleefully accepted the newer spirits, sucking them upwards in a whirlpool of red light that took away the last remains of Lior into it.  
  
Edward thought he saw a familiar face crossing over before exhaustion overtook him.  
  
The last thing he remembered was the light at the end of the tunnel, promising no more pain.

_The only difference between you and me is that I don’t bother pretending to be something that I’m not._


	6. Absolution

  


* * *

**Invidia: Absolution.**

_“It’s the confession, not the priest, that gives the absolution.”_

* * *

“You’re pitiful, the worst student I’ve have the disgrace of training. Disgraceful. _Depressing_.”

The young man clenched his teeth, resisting the urge to snarl, and curled his body as he swayed to keep his balance. His Master looked at him with boredom in her eyes, her diminutive body balancing on her toes. She arched an eyebrow at him.

“Again.”

Vyktor leaped, twisted and aimed a kick at her head with surprising speed, but once more, he hit only air, and he winced when he felt her bony fists slam brutally against his back. He landed with a dry thud, grass mocking him as he bit on a handful of dirt.

“No, no, _no_ ,” Ming Yue pursed her lips in aggravation, “How do you expect to best your opponents if you can’t even hold your own against an old crone like me?” He muttered something vaguely rude to the ground, eyes tightly shut as he tried to regain the indifferent concentration that was needed for The Fight. “Stand up and _breathe_. Flow onto it, you mustn’t need the music to let yourself go. The tune is in your very veins… the tune is in the very heart of the world, everything adds a note to the melody, listen and _dance_ to it.”

“Maybe if you _shut up_ I would hear it!” The blond snapped scathingly, sitting and glaring through the stubborn bangs that refused to stay away from his face.

Ming Yue arched an eyebrow, orchestrating the wrinkles that made up her face into a moderately amused expression, then waved her thin hands into a intricate, cyclic pattern, the wide sleeves of her tunic moving along and Vyktor was acutely reminded of the dancing cobras in the desert. A faint golden glow trailed behind her movements, though, feeble sparkles that died before they could properly shine and which added a new level of fascinating to the strange dance. And then she thrust her hands against him and it was as if the whole Universe had decided to act against him.

The first hit came with wind, a powerful blow that lifted him like a weightless feather, ruthlessly shoving him back. And then he slammed himself against a wall of earth that had certainly not been there two seconds before, but which had conveniently risen to meet his ill timed flight and stop him from actually causing damage to the elegant building beyond the garden. But she wasn’t done with him, oh no. A couple broken ribs meant nothing to her, and so it was a puddle that caught him, instead of the lush grass he had been resting on, minutes prior. Earth and water, finely mixed with each other and waiting with open arms to swallow him whole for his indiscretion. As he sank down, a mouthful of mud nearly choking him, he felt more than saw the flame licking past his head, ghosting closely enough for him to feel the heat.

When he was spit out, breathless and scared witless, the old master smiled lightly at him.

“If _you_ shut up and stop complaining about everything between the heavens and earth, maybe you would actually _see_ the currents flowing around you,” She folded her hands into her sleeves, looking harmless enough to contradict the sheer power she had just unleashed. He was torn between anger and awe when he realized she hadn’t even broken a sweat and not a single hair was off the immaculate bun atop her head. “Meditate. And forgo dinner tonight. I do believe skipping a meal or two will help you leave trivial matters behind. It will certainly do something with your manners, young man.”

And then she walked back to the magnificent temple that served as her humble home, leaving him spluttering dirt and curses, alone. Vyktor wondered if meditation would help him ease the need to _sulk_ that was consuming him all of a sudden.

* * *

This is stupid shit, Vyktor knows, digging graves in the middle of a mountain town that will be buried by the next blizzard and forgotten by the next year. It’s stupid, but he goes on, he feels he should. These were good people; they welcomed him into their lives without as much as a second thought. They deserve this much for their kindness, foolish as it was. He feels strangely bad for being a monster and he can’t but nurse the feeling that disaster follows him wherever he goes.

And then, there’s that strange itching in the back of his mind, feeding morbid thoughts – even more morbid than anything that he ever entertained while under Ming Yue’s service – and flashing deliciously violent images that jolt him awake at night, whenever he actually manages to sleep more than two hours straight, sweating and strangely aroused by it.

He wants to kill something. He wants to kill _someone_.

The shovel kicks the dirt far more harshly than needed, but Vyktor feels vaguely better about things, his hands clenching tightly around the handle and preparing to dig the last of the batch. To his left, there are a couple of corpses slowly decaying in open air, mocking him with their pale skin and their frozen features. He notices, with faint disgust, that his skin tone is that exact shade, a sort of sickly white that makes him look at home among a horde of rotting bodies.

He snarls violently, shoving them down into their cavernous last resting place, and tries hard to not think in metaphors when he covers them with dirt and snow.

* * *

Envy knew a good deal of things regarding Alchemy. He also knew he had no clue what Dante did with her hands that allowed her to bypass the need for arrays. Alchemy with arrays was fairly different from Alchemy with energy flows, but what his Master did when she clapped her hands was neither. It intrigued him. He watched her movements, strained to see the energy curling around her, but all he saw was a faint glow that came directly from the Gate. He couldn’t do Alchemy of course, another thing he gave up without being asked when he became an immortal Sin, but he wondered. How marvelous it would be if he, who had the knowledge and the ability and the sheer _power_ , could be able to unleash it with only a clap.

He wasn’t human and he wasn’t allowed to mess with the very fabric of the universe, but he still had his memories – memories that wouldn’t disappear, no matter what – so he could wonder and entertain himself. After all, even if he was never going to be human again he had no reason why not to speculate.

“What are you thinking about?” Lust – silly, annoying little _bitch_ – asked with her falsest tone, childlike wonder dripping venomously from her lips.

Some days, Envy wondered what he had been _thinking_ when he abducted the child-monster into their fold. Oh, she was useful, she could take over missions that would have usually fallen into Envy’s hands – the boring kind of missions he never wanted to do – so she was happy being useful, and Dante was happy since her orders were followed and Envy was… well, not happy, because that wasn’t part of his repertoire, but at least less homicidally-inclined than usual.

What was he thinking about? Death, Boredom, Alchemy. It’s always about Alchemy, after all. He was _Envy_ for crying out loud, Alchemy was the best thing he could envy in humans, or at least it was the best thing he could tell others – not that he was telling _anyone_ – that he envied. Saying he envied mortality would sound queer and strange and would probably get him killed. Which would have been a very nice plan, except they couldn’t kill him, because he was _immortal_ , but they could certainly try and get him in pain. Horrible pain. Envy hated pain.

“Disemboweling someone.” He muttered after a while, because that particular Lust was _affectionate_. She cuddled next to him and he wondered for the tenth time in as many minutes _why_ he had thought she would make a nice Sin.

“Me too,” She admitted with a grin, a grin far too innocent to go along her words and her meaning. Electricity cracked around her fingertips as the fantasy, pumped by the bloodlust, appeared behind her eyelids, “I’d love to zap someone right now. Just… fry them until they can’t be recognized any more.”

They were sitting on a roof, staring at the boring little town – Central they called it, though Envy had seen the real splendor before, when it was called Xerxes – and awaiting their next batch of orders. A new alchemist and a new stone, that was how their time slipped past them, without ever doing anything remotely useful or interesting or _something_. The bloodlust was singing in their veins, though, buzzing their heads with the need for the euphoric release and it blurred their thoughts, allowing only their hunger to speak.

“Yeah,” Envy looked back at the attic window, watching distractedly as Dante fixed the old room for her next acting show, watched the ease with which she manipulated the elements; clap, and it was done. He sneered, “Yeah, let’s go.”

The next morning, a cluster of horribly disfigured corpses was found in the outskirts of the city, and Dante scolded them both for being careless.

* * *

Greed is out there somewhere, wrecking havoc and having fun, and it feels strange to know they are complete again. Seven Deadly Sins, consuming themselves in their names, perpetuating their inexistence with their farces.

Of course, it’s not going to last, not with what he knows and what Dante plans and what Lust has – unknowingly – done.

They were Seven, originally, their names taken from an old book Dante had read once during her feverish brush with death, all those years ago. When Envy actually had a name to call his own and he didn’t feel nearly as _empty_ as he does now. She had read about the Sins and the Virtues, choosing the first rather than the later to name her army. In retrospective, Envy is very glad of that choice, because he honestly doesn’t think Patience would have been a good name for him. Ironic, but not good. And looking over at Lust, draped over _his_ bed as if she owns the place, he doesn’t think Chastity could have ever been her name. Not when she can do all those wicked things with her tongue.

_Chastity, Abstinence, Liberality, Diligence, Kindness, Patience and Humility._

No, it doesn’t sound well. It sounds farfetched and ironic and just down right _moronic_. They are aberrations of nature, creatures taken out from the womb of the Gate to serve the mastermind that will eventually rule over all. Or die and finally leave them alone to mourn their lost lives. Either way, they aren’t holy. They’re wicked, _deadly_.

_Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy and Pride._

That sounds better, stronger.

Or maybe if they had been meant to be Virtues rather than Sins, they wouldn’t be nearly as… well, _bad_ as they are now. A name makes a thing, after all.

* * *

He was going to die.

The thought came to him clearly, startlingly so. He watched Ed and Hawkeye sleeping by the cave, exhausted after the tedious trail up mountain, and then dragged his eyes towards the open space outside. The Plateau was still as breathtaking as it had been four centuries prior, when he first dared to step into it, wary and dying all the same. Envy grinned lightly, well aware that Irony was the ink with which his life had been written – though if it had been written by himself or Dante or Hohenheim or the Gate, it wasn’t ever clear.

The dragons soared around them, breathing sulphur and letting out a lulling litany of growls that was eerily pacifying.

He was going to die. Envy wondered why he didn’t feel, well, _convinced_ of the fact but the long list of failed plans to end his existence were probably at fault there. He didn’t like failing, and he didn’t like getting… he couldn’t say ‘his hopes up’, because he didn’t have many of those, if any; and he couldn’t say really anything else because it wouldn’t make sense. He just wanted to end, slip away quietly and be done with it. No one was going to miss him, anyway, no one that could have missed him was still alive and it was _boring_ to just keep going on like nothing was wrong, when it was clear _everything_ was wrong.

Envy watched the sun peeking over the distance, bathing everything in a golden glow and prompting the dragons to roar at the slow increase of temperature. He wondered what this particular attempt to die would bring with it; he had the feeling it was going to be… quite something else entirely.

* * *

He’d heard the saying somewhere, from a suicidal man attempting to save his wife. At that time, amusement at the situation had made him ignore it, but like everything else, he had not forgotten.

_Because falling feels like flying, if only for a second._

Privately, Envy thought the man had obviously missed the landing in his calculations.

“Fuck,” He said, because it felt adequate, “Fuck _,_ ” He repeated, because one just didn’t cut it.

After a small examination to his current state, Envy noted duly that he was actually alive. Which was pretty darn annoying. And then he noted the terrible ache all over that was threatening to degenerate into agony in any moment and realized that he was _alive_.

“ _Fuck_.”

“I’m inclined to agree with you.”

Twitching his head upwards from where he was sprawled on the grass, he caught sight of a billowing coat, an amused smile and a pair of glasses. He slammed his head against the ground – the flash of pain dispelled any former doubts about his alive-ness – and groaned. Good and loud, screwing his eyes shut and rethinking his condition.

He wasn’t _just_ alive. He was in _hell_.

The bastard remained silent, but Envy could feel the eyes on him, pinning him down uncomfortably and itching. He hated the feeling. Silence stretched and stretched…

“What the fuck are you doing standing there?” He didn’t ask because he was curious. He asked because talking was much better than beating the living daylights out of him.

Or standing up.

Or moving.

Or twitching.

Talking didn’t hurt.

“Waiting for you to be done with your dramatic show so we can leave.” The bastard was grinning. Maybe not with his lips, or his words, or his tone. But Envy knew he was grinning and he hated him.

Listening to him hurt.

“Really Vyktor-“ Teeth clenched and every muscle in his body spasmed. “-look at your brother. He’s younger than you, but you don’t see _him_ making a scene.”

Brother? Envy blinked. What brother? _Waaait a second._  


After another effort to tilt his head, which sent his neck into excruciating pain, his eyes settled on the young boy sitting on a rock, a bit behind the bastard. Envy closed his eyes, counted to ten, had a moment to conjure a fantasy in which the bastard exploded and imploded at the same time, and then he forced his body into a sitting position.

His spine bemoaned the harsh treatment and his muscles threatened to go into strike.

“He fucked it up, didn’t he?” Envy didn’t know how, but he managed to force his face into a sneer, “That slip of an idiot had the chance of a lifetime, and he royally _fucked_ it up, didn’t he?”

“ _‘I want my brother back’_ , I believe those were his exact words,” The bastard smiled, almost apologically; “I think Edward needs some lessons on grammar.”

“When the agony is over and I can move properly again, I’m going to rip off your intestines and choke you with them,” Envy noted a distinct lack of green hair in his bangs, but decided to wait a bit before throwing the necessary tantrum about it, “Also, _fuck_ , I hate you.”

“Yes, you do that,” The man nodded pleasantly, in the least perturbed by the _serious_ and _definite_ threats against his person, “Look after Alphonse, Vyktor, I’m going to see if I can find us somewhere to spend the night.”

“Wha- _no_ ,” He startled and, as each and every nerve in his body screeched in protest, Envy let out a hiss of displeasure, “Don’t you dare to walk away on me. I’m not looking after _your_ son, just because you’re too stupid to do it yourself. I don’t like kids.”

The broad back was slowly getting away from him.

“I’m going to kill you! Kill you, you hear? Whip the fucking smile off your lips! You’ll be agonizing on your own shit before you know it!”

The bastard was getting smaller and smaller.

“Fine! I’m gonna kill _him_ instead! That’s right, how about it? He’ll make a pretty fucking _corpse_ and then all this theatre will’ve been in vain! Huh? _Huh?_ ”

The man disappeared behind a hill. Envy groaned, threw his hands up his head – regretting it as soon as he was reminded of the constant, _unrelenting_ pain he was in – and turned to face the quiet boy. He looked at him through wide blue eyes, frowning slightly.

“And now what the fuck am I supposed to do with you? Pat your head and say everything will be okay? _Fuck it._ ” Envy allowed gravity to drag his tired body against the grass again, the hit of moist ground almost numbed completely by the rest of the insistent thoughts clustering around his mind.

After a moment of silence, he heard the small steps coming closer. Stubbornly, Envy fixed his eyes on the cloudless sky, decided to ignore the brat and who give two shits if it was childish? He was supposed to be _dead_ , he deserved a bit of slack, goddamnit.

“Where’s Ed?” Alphonse obscured his vision, his lips pursed into a silly scowl that was more hilarious than anything else. “Where’s big brother?”

Envy snorted, closed his eyes and rolled to the side, not really ready to wait for whatever was coming their way, but resigned to let the universe have its way with him again.

“ _Fuck_ Edward.”

* * *

Envy hates London. He despises it vehemently. Of course, he despises everything around him, but he takes it all out on the city, since it can’t really defend itself. He’s also well aware that he’s mostly angry at himself and his own weakness, but it will be a cold day in hell before he admits as much. Apparently getting a new body – a new _human_ body – complete with his good old soul, pulled out of only the Gate knew where, is taxing. And painful. It’s been two months since they landed in this queer Other World – landed, _literally_ , he’s still nursing that particular hit – and the pain hasn’t lessened in the least. He can barely move, so he spends the better part of his days curling around in bed, face to the wall, trying hard to ignore everything outside and inside him.

Hohenheim, for whatever reason, is now a doctor, and the notion is so silly Envy starts cackling whenever he catches sight of the older man prowling around their little hotel room, his left hand clutching a black leather bag. It’s down right laughable, Envy thinks, because Hohenheim could never attempt to heal anything without killing it in the process.

He’s the best example of that theory.

So he’s bored and wary and weakened, and there’s not really much he can do about it, except wait for his body to kick the pace and go back to normal. In a blinding moment of clarity, Envy realizes he _can’t_ remember what was being normal, _human_ normal. It’s been nearly half a millennia, after all, but the contrast arises easily. Things are sharper now, stronger. Everything’s vivid, _real_ , and it’s sort of scary to realize he’s about to learn something new again.

Envy can’t remember the last time he learned something new.

“Envy?” Alphonse’s head pokes through the doorway, blue eyes wary as he steps tentatively into the room, “I brought dinner.”

The boy’s solicitous, always smiling and just as soft spoken as Envy remembers him being within a tin can. He’s under the deluded notion that Envy is some sort of brother of his, perhaps a substitute for the missing Ed, but Envy’s really too tired to argue the point properly. He does glare when Alphonse climbs into bed with him, offering the tea and the bread with a blinding smile.

“Hn,” Knowing well he’s doomed to spend the rest of the evening entertaining the brat – it’s not like he can _stop_ him – Envy tries to settle against the headboard without upsetting his back too much and reaches for a slice.

“I’m going to school!” Alphonse informs him, as if he cares about it, but at least his voice kills the painful silence that lounges with Envy most of the time, so he shrugs carelessly. “I never went to school before.”

“Neither did I,” Envy remembers his teachers, the lessons they taught, the disappointments, the excitement. He can’t stop himself from replying and it’s bothering him. This humanity thing is going to drive him insane one of these days.

“It’s so awesome, though,” Envy doesn’t ask _what_ , but Alphonse answers as if he had, “It’s a pretty school, you know? And there are lots of kids there. I wish Ed was here, he’d love it too.”

And just like that, the fire’s out and Alphonse is drawn into silence, starting sadly at his own hands. He has no memory of his life within the armor, of the trails he went through after his brother sinned, of the lonely nights he spent keeping watch over his older sibling. Nothing. He doesn’t know, he can’t remember, but something tells Envy he will, eventually.

“What’s the old man doing?” It’s pathetic to rely on Alphonse as his source of information about the outside world, but it’s the best he can do in his condition.

He doesn’t want to go out and see the city for himself – a city is a city anywhere in the world, in any world – but he’d love to have something to do. Anything to keep the boredom at bay and figure a way to solve his stupid predicament. Why is he the one weighted down with humanity? Why couldn’t it be Lust, who wanted it so desperately?

Irony is really going to kill him one day.

“Reading,” Alphonse smiles kindly; he loves his father, and it’s clear as daylight he does. Envy wonders how long it’ll take him to see the bastard for what he is in truth, “He says he’s got a really important case to solve. His patient is dying.”

“People die all the time.”

Green and blue meet in surprise, blinking. Envy doesn’t even realize he spoke the words, but it’s something so deeply integrated within him he can’t stop himself.

“Yes,” Alphonse smiles again, “But that’s why Father’s around, right? To keep people alive and save them.”

  
_And who saves them from themselves?_ Envy wants to ask, if only to mess with the brat’s mind again, but he doesn’t, and the rest of their little meal is silent.

* * *

Bars that side of town were ugly, but Envy – or Vyktor, as he’d come to call himself again, when it became obvious prancing around under the name of a Sin was not the wisest course of action – didn’t particularly mind it. He minded that he had started to answer to that wrenched name again and it infuriated him that there was no one else to blame but himself. London was grey as ever, still trying to get back to its previous glory after the war, and apparently failing miserably at it. He didn’t care much about politics or the shit that went on around him; he just cared about eating somewhat regularly and having something to kill the time.

The Bastard – with capital B, since he’s the biggest bastard Vyktor had ever encountered – provided the food and a few choice comments about his lack of permanent or respectable employment.

Henri helped him kill the time.

The taller French man – a good head taller than Vyktor, who was really a blond flag post on his own – was of African descent, owner of very peculiar sense of humor and a keen desire to get into close quarters with the former Homunculus. Said former Homunculus hadn’t been all to excited about the idea, but after butting heads – more literally than figuratively – Envy found himself quite taken with the ‘older man’. He didn’t care one bit about his life history and mercifully Henri didn’t volunteered information; they were just fine with drinking themselves silly every other night and laughing about the shit that went on around them.

"You should get dreadlocks." Envy spat his beer clear across the table, showering the black man, who was too busy grinning to care about it. "It’d help with your attitude. Ever thought about getting one of those dye jobs they give down town? Black’d suit you."

"Green, actually.” Clear eyes narrowed considerably as he answered in his most haughty tone, trying to recover his dignity – poor, battered thing it was – and glaring coldly at him. “It made me look regal."

"You probably looked like a palm tree,” Henri replied without losing his grin, arching an eyebrow at the twitching blond sitting across the table, “But everyone must have been too polite to say it."

"Shut _up_ , you shit eating _fag_." The former alchemist, former sin, current freeloader hissed with a warning glare.

"Oh, into _those_ jokes already? I hit a sore spot then." The French man looked faintly scandalized.

"Pah." The ex-immortal snorted to his beer, glaring darkly at the liquid as if it were at fault for everything that had gone wrong with his life.

"You're washing my shirt, though.” The older – though younger – man looked down at his ruined clothes with a snicker, “It smells funny."

"Why, because I spat on it as opposed to you pissing on it?" Sarcasm was practically palpable when Envy spoke, but it only served to amuse Henri some more.

"Precisely, it's a matter of principles." He made a strange motion with his hand, the same one he had seen one of the Lords do in a public speech a few weeks prior.

"You're so full of shit it's not even funny." Envy blinked, bewildered and amused against his better judgment.

"Like you're one to talk.” Henri laughed good-naturedly, ignorant of the potential danger he was facing. He was alive only because he provided Envy’s life with a moderate amount of spice, keeping the tediousness of it at bay most of the time. He didn’t really know the full scope of the other’s sadistic vein, or his penchant to hold grudges to the grave and beyond – literally. “Palm tree wannabe."

"Oh, now I _am_ going to kill you."

Vyktor – Envy, goddamnit, his name was _Envy_ – was going to kill him one day, when his patience thinned enough or he had a beer too many. Henri was going to die rather painfully at his hands, and no pathetic human notions like friendship or camaraderie would stop him.

He didn’t have friends, he didn’t need them.

* * *

Five years in this pathetic mockery of a life, and Vyktor is already considering suicide far more seriously than he ever did under Dante’s wing. Alphonse is a brilliant boy, his grades are good, his temperament is as kind as ever, he’s got tons of friends and he’s still under the silly notion that Vyktor is some sort of image to idolize. Quite frankly, the kid is giving him an ulcer.

Vyktor chooses to blame his lack of Homunculus-induced bloodlust for his lack of enthusiasm to actually try and kill the bloody brat. It’s easier on his nerves.

Their living arrangements have changed, too. Now they live more or less comfortably in a small apartment in the city, above the locale Hohenheim has somehow adapted into a doctor’s office. It’s always filled to the brim with people needing treatment for one thing or another, and Vyktor makes his best effort to avoid it as much as possible. And he still lives with the Bastard and the brat – he’s not entirely sure _why_ , but he’s not nearly stupid enough to try and figure it out: he likes his life simple, unraveling that particular knot of tension would make it anything but simple – though he’s nowhere near doing anything Hohenheim tells him to.

This particular morning, the small waiting room is filled with only a couple of ailing idiots whining about their pain as if it’s something important. Vyktor grinds his teeth in aggravation, for once unable to flee to the relative safety of his room as he actually needs to have a word with the bastard. Amusing, somewhat, considering that during the course of their stay in this world, they have spoken a grand total of seventy-six words, excluding Vyktor’s vicious insults and swearing at Hohenheim’s face.

Vyktor thinks he’s figured out a way to get back to the world they belong – not so much because he cares about Hohenheim or Alphonse, who seem rather content to remain where they are, but because _he_ can’t stand this mediocre existence anymore. He hasn’t got a clue about what he wants to do once they get back to _their_ world, but he figures it has to be better than this. Anything would be better than this.

There’s a brat with a dislocated shoulder, nothing too ostentous, but she’s wailing like the world is ending and Vyktor can feel his teeth cracking as he clenches them to stop himself from snapping. Self preservation, he muses dryly to himself, the only thing that’s kept him from murdering idiots left and right. How terribly ironic that now that he can die, he’s unconsciously avoiding getting killed. It’s ludicrous.

“Shut _up_ already,” He finally calls, losing his temper and causing the little bitch to eep in fright. Her parents stand up swiftly, looking at him warily and warningly, not entirely sure who or what he is, tensing visibly when he grabs her arm and her shoulder. He twists them painfully, the resounding crack echoing in the room as the parents widen their eyes worriedly, but when they move to stop him, it’s already too late, and the girl is twisting her arm experimentally, no longer in pain. “Now, for anything that’s remotely _holy_ , shut up.”

Before the bewildered parents and his impromptu patient can utter a word, Hohenheim is at the door, smiling pleasantly.

“Ah, Vyktor, I see you’ve met Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson already,” He’s giving him that infuriatingly smug smile, and belatedly Vyktor figures out the bastard _saw_. He sees red for a moment. “As it is, I’m afraid our little chat will have to wait, could you please go upstairs? We shall talk tonight, I promise.”

Green eyes narrow to slits, promising pain, before the young man storms out of the room – decidedly _not_ going upstairs – without so much as a word. Hohenheim smiles again, shaking his head patiently as if he were dealing with a child. Vyktor doesn’t see him do it, which is just perfect, because he would do something very unpleasant if he did. In his mind, there will be no conversation this night, and he decides to just skip pretensions and find Henri. He could really use a hit or two of something barely legal right now.

“What a peculiar young man,” Mrs. Stevenson says coyly, a hand covering her faint smile, “A friend of yours, Dr. Elric?”

“My eldest son, actually,” Hohenheim says far too proudly and, again, it’s a fortune Vyktor is nowhere near to hear him say it. “But that’s not important now. You had an appointment, I believe?”

* * *

“Come to France with me.”

Envy blinked for a moment, instinctively looking down at his empty mug before turning to face Henri blankly. The black man was grinning widely, obscenely white teeth almost glaring at him with the intensity of the gesture.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” The blond asked after a moment, turning to face his companion in bewilderment. Henri was always doing or saying something that left Envy staring at him and wondering the hows and the whens. It was probably why he hadn’t killed the goof yet, despite the fact that almost five years had passed since they met each other.

“Not really,” Henri smiled kindly, shrugging, “Or rather, not more so than usual. C’mon, think about it. You, me, the southern fields...”

“Um, okay.” The former sin rolled his eyes with a flourish, “How about not.”

“Why not?” The French man leaned on the table, his eyebrows drawn together in a thoughtful manner, “What do you have here? You ain’t got a work, you ain’t got a wife. You’re twenty six, for crying out loud. Live a little.”

“I also happen to be lacking in the monetary department, yes,” Envy pointed out dryly, shaking his head lightly. Really, Henri never stopped trying, did he? He glared darkly at the taller man, when he leaned it a bit too closely for comfort, causing him to retreat almost regretfully.

“Not a problem, then!” Out of a pocket in his battered coat, Henri pulled a stained envelope, sliding it through the table towards the blinking blond. “Good thing I thought about buying those before asking you, eh? We’d take about forever to get to Mama’s house if we relied on your decision making skills.”

Inside the small envelope, Envy found two sets of tickets for boat and train, to a little village lost in the middle of nowhere, France. The date of departure in them was precisely that day, around midnight, and the green eyed man felt his face melt into a grin. Really, that was just _so_ Henri’s style.

“You’re not buying me a trip to France,” He told the man with a deadpan, “It’s… unethical.”

“Bullshit,” Henri replied laughing, before smirking, “And it’d seem like I’ve already did.” Then his smirk turned lascivious. “Though if you absolutely demand to pay it, you can start by a little kiss… say,” He pointed to the corner of his lip, “Here?”

Envy decked him the strongest left hook he could muster, throwing the taller man clear to the floor without so much as a warning. Henri blinked at the ceiling for a moment, before he dissolved into a fit of laugher, turning to grin a bloody grin at his friend.

“Should’ve seen that one coming, shouldn’t’ve I?”

Envy placed the envelope on the table, snorting derisively.

“I’ll see you here at ten.”

He left with swift steps, so he didn’t see Henri smiling sincerely at his back, blood oozing from his split lip.

* * *

Henri has been trying to explain him the basics of French, though Envy’s far more amused in the light green tone his friend’s skin takes with each violent shake of the ship. To tell the truth, French is a lot like Cretan, back home, with just minor alterations to the basic structure. Of course he can’t tell Henri why he’s picking so fast on the language; there’re things he can’t tell to anyone, not even to this particularly trying specimen of humanity that has apparently turned into his sidekick somewhere along the way.

Envy has always been good at learning languages: after a while, he picked a pattern in all grammatical structures. But then again, he’s had a good deal of time to figure that puzzle out. Between one war and the next, there was always a tidal boredom to fight, after all.

Henri’s mother is turning seventy, Envy’s informed during the course of the boat trip, and that’s why they’re crossing the sea and half the country to go see her. Henri gets another split lip when he unabashedly suggests this could be a great chance for them to get a blessing on their relationship, and Envy sulks on his side of the tiny room for perhaps fifteen minutes.

“Nice try,” The blond calls out to the darkness, green eyes fixed on the wall as a sneer breaks through his face, “You’re not nearly drunk enough. _I_ ’m not nearly drunk enough.”

“Had to try, didn’t I?” Henri relents after a moment, sliding off Envy’s bed and slipping into his own grudgingly.

Envy snorts loudly as he snuggles back into the tiny space, no longer pressed tightly against a wall or a body. There’s silence in the room for a moment, only the sound of waves crashing to the ship’s side interrupting their thoughts.

“Envy?”

“No, you fucking asshole, I’m not going to move to your bed and keep you warm,” Envy hisses warningly, his eyes flashing dangerously as he turns to glare at his companion, “Now shut up and go to sleep.”

“Not that,” Henri says wryly, and by his tone Envy can pick up the grin he can’t see, “Though I thought about it.” Hearing his friend huff in irritation, the French man hurries to add, “I just wanted to ask something.”

“You ain’t going to sleep any time soon, are you?” The rhetoric question is aimed at no one in particular, before Envy resigns himself to lose another few hours of sleep. Not that it matters, nothing really matters when you’re an insomniac homunculus-turned-human living a parody of life to entertain the sick sense of humor of the Gate. “What’s it now?”

“Oh, just curious,” There’s something strange in Henri’s voice, but Envy can’t really pick it apart. “Why Envy?”

“What?”

“Why Envy? Why do you call yourself Envy?” Sheets rustle again, and Henri sits on his bed, trying hard to ignore the infernal swinging of the ship in favor of watching his friend’s siluette against the wall.

There’s silence for a long moment, then a very soft spoken voice, almost alien.

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, it’s a long journey.”

Envy tries to find the dark eyes at the other side of the room. He gives up before he can and then simply turns back to the wall.

“Go to sleep, Henri. We’ll arrive in a few hours.”

The black man tries to pick up a conversation again a few times, but by the seventh failed attempt, he simply sighs in defeat and tries to catch a few hours of rest.

* * *

France was beautiful in that grey way Envy had come to see as the prelude of massive destruction. There had been a time, of course, in which he had relished the scent of carnage that lay dormant beneath the pleasantries and the pointless pretense of happiness, but now the drive to enjoy the bloodbath was gone, and he found himself strangely indifferent to it all. Without the bloodlust of the Oroborus to fuel his need to destroy things, Envy realized he didn’t give a flying fuck about what humans did or how they killed each other.

Without the drive to kill and destroy, he found he was bored out of his skull, too.

Envy stared up at the cloudless sky, ignoring everything around him but the annoying feeling of _emptiness_ inside. He didn’t miss Dante, or Hohenheim, or Alphonse, or _anyone_. He didn’t have a home to go back to, no one to expect him, but he still felt _empty_. It was ludicrous, but it irked him on a basic level. Of all the things he hated about being human, the constant emotional changes were that pissed him off the most; it seemed as if he couldn’t keep his mind away from the little details that threatened to spoil his bastard persona.

He _was_ a bastard goddamnit, where, along the way, had it turned into another mask?

In the cabin of the truck, Henri and Paul, the man who had agreed to drive them, burst out laughing hysterically at some inane joke he had no desire to figure out. Envy sighed theatrically and turned to lie on his side, curling a little.

Being human sucked.

Then Paul gave a sharp turn and Envy squeaked when he was sent flying against the truck’s wall. He got a mouthful of hay and a throbbing head in the aftermath of it.

“ _Fuck_.”

* * *

There’s a band of gypsies in town by the time they get there. Everything’s vibrant under their influence and Envy thinks he’s going to throw up if someone flashes something bright, cheerful and happy at him again. Henri’s laughing though, unwinding with his friends and being just his usual perky self.

Envy’s wondering what in the seven hells he’s doing in the middle of a party in _France_ , but for the sake of _quiet_ – and with the gypsies playing there’s not much of it – he stops that train of thought and sets to ignore the veiled leering sent his way.

He’s used to being leered at; he _chose_ his former body to be leer-able, after all, but somehow, being leered at while his hair’s blond and his eyes green makes it thousand times more uncomfortable. Vyktor Elric is… _pretty_ , whereas Envy was _breathtaking_. It’s taken a lot of time to get used to the stronger build of this body, the longer legs, the rougher hands; the way everything is _certainly_ male, lacking the playful ambiguity that made Envy such a thrill for all who encountered him. And he had relished that thrill, the advantage of appearing helpless, only to turn around and destroy those in his way. Envy might have lost that will to destroy things senselessly and his veins might have stopped singing with the promise of murder, but he still remembers – like everything else – the almost drunken sensation that came with it. It’s as if someone deflated the hatred that had consumed him for so long, and now that the brunt of the intensity is gone, a thousand other emotions have made themselves comfortable in the empty space. He still hates Hohenheim, but without the blind, obsessive compulsion Dante had instigated before. No, now Envy wants the man to _suffer_ , to remain alive and see what his foolishness has caused. He wants him to pay, to deliver the worst punishment ever. Without his mind blurred by bloodlust, he can easily realize that _he_ is Hohenheim’s worst nightmare. Maybe that’s why he stayed in London all that time, because the sight of him, irritated and snide, was the sharpest pain he could inflict on his so-called father.

He doesn’t want to kill anyone in particular – though he would enjoy decking Hohenheim a good left hook, if anything – but he still remembers the shivers that came with blood freshly spilled, the sparks that raced his spine and the sensual aftershocks of murder.

  
_Ah, the good old days_ , Envy thinks almost wistfully, before drifting towards the table standing in front of the small town’s tavern. It’s a day for celebration, and everyone is deep in the spirit of things. All Envy wants, though, is a cool beer and the hangover of the century to forget about all this sentimental nonsense that won’t take him anywhere.

“You.”

When he turns, irritated and half drunk, there’s a flood of insults wanting to be thrown, but they die the moment he sets his eyes on the Roma woman starting thoughtfully at him. It’s by sheer restraint that he swallows the mouthful of alcohol, rather than to spit it as his first impulse dictates.

“ _Xi Feng_.”

Again, it’s not her, like the Ishbalan Dante had chosen as her next body wasn’t _her_ , but the resemblance was _striking_. Envy feels sick as sixty years worth of memories flood his mind, finding himself helpless to ignore them as he had done before. Before, he had been undead and uncaring… now his veins twist all over themselves when this woman, this look alike of his first and only _apprentice_ smiles at him.

Xi Feng never really smiled at him or anyone else for the matter, but _this_ creature smiles broadly, welcomingly. It’s far too much for Envy to stomach and he wonders if he should follow his gut and get the hell out of here.

“You’re not from here,” Her voice is soft and she gives another step towards him, invading that faint notion of personal space, “Not at all, you feel _different_.”

Any other time, and the corny words would have caused a cringe-worthy smartass remark, but Envy’s still trying to stop himself from comparing _this_ version of _his_ Xianese spitfire with the sneering brat that had so cheekily made her way into his life all those years ago, to fully grasp the situation. He turns to leave, feeling bile rising in his throat, and then the woman puts a hand on his elbow, gently but firmly holding him back.

“If you want,” She says with an eerie smile as she closes the distance between them, staring up at him with all too bright eyes, “I can read your future for you… you’re an interesting one, I’ll even do it for free.”

* * *

Her name was Noah. He found it strangely amusing since the only time he had heard that name, it was about some silly old geezer who took orders from ‘god’ and had built a really _big_ boat. Dante had _loved_ the religious motif, and Envy had followed along her games for the sake of not being bored. But this Noah wasn’t old and she wasn’t a man. She dragged him – he allowed himself to be dragged – into a ridiculous-looking tent and almost threw up from the stench of incense burning inside the small room. Noah plopped down some cushions, motioning him to do the same.

Envy took a moment to wonder _what_ he was doing there again.

“You see, I can feel you,” She said dramatically, rummaging along the various items scattered over the cushion bed, “It’s my gift.”

“Really,” He said as dryly as he could, feeling a headache building behind his left eye; probably because aromatic herbs and alcohol in large quantities didn’t mix so well, “You don’t say.”

“I’d never seen anyone like you before,” Noah set a large crystal orb between them and Envy couldn’t hold back the loud, offensive snort at the sight, “I have to read you, it’s a once in a lifetime chance, you understand?”

“I think you’re over your head,” The former immortal said plainly, then narrowed his eyes when she confidently snatched one of his hands and placed it on top of her silly scrying ball.

Before he could snatch it back, though, her grip grew limp and her lids fell halfway, giving her eyes a flat, unexpressive image.

“I see blood.” Envy raised an eyebrow slowly as he watched her, pulling his hand back disdainfully. Her eyes were glued to her ball, her hands motionless at either side. She seemed to be deep in some sort of trance. “I see blood and loneliness and hatred. I see a snake chasing after its own tail, destroying everything in its wake. I see a woman, a beautiful woman with a thousand different faces; her face changes but her eyes and her smile remain the same. I see a man, a tall, lonely man; sinking into the desert and falling prey to himself. I see a boy inside a metal cage, calling out for help, and another boy, a boy with a metal fist… he’s chasing after the shadows, breaking the cage to save the younger boy.” Envy saw small drops of sweat gathering around her temples, but her eyes remained unfocused, “I see a girl, she’s crying and smiling, waving at a tall archway. I see a woman with deadly eyes and hundreds of men dressed in uniform, marching to their death in the horizon. I see the sky and the grass tint red with their shed blood, the cries of those who died and refused to go forward.” Noah’s arms stretched suddenly, clutching her shoulders tightly, “To unravel the snake from the cross, all must best their worst within. The father, the son and the holy spirit, a trinity that keeps the world spinning; the lamb to slaughter to repent the sins of others.”

Reflexively, he caught her when she fell forward, exhausted. Envy raised an eyebrow when she buried her face against him. Either she _was_ something more than a Roma trickster, or he had just met a better actor than himself. Noah’s arms wound around him, pulling him tightly.

“The man you’re looking for, the boy who defied the sun… he’s not here,” _Okay, maybe not a con-artist_ , Envy thought wryly, _but certainly **not** sane,_ “In Shamballa, he’s waiting.”

Then Noah said no more, and it took Envy a whole minute to figure out she was unconscious. He wondered if he could get _more_ drunk yet.

* * *

“Was she any good?”

Envy does a slight double take when he realizes what Henri’s talking about, then raises his eyebrows when he grasps his mind around the fact the black man sounds _jealous_. Blinking owlishly, Envy raises his head from it’s comfortable place atop his folded arms and regards the irritating nuisance with a quirked eyebrow.

“What?”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Henri tells him eloquently, before plopping down across the table, looking like a sourly child who’s been denied dessert; wisely, Envy refrains from antagonizing him further, he’s doing a marvelous job of it _all_ by himself, “I shouldn’t’ve let you out of my sight.”

“I’m sorry, _mother_ ,” The blond rolls his eyes, feeling the headache come back to haunt him with a bloody passion, “I didn’t mean to leave you out. We can call out a threesome tonight if you want.”

There’s a moment of silence in which Henri’s eyes get that glassed over look that means he’s picturing something in his mind.

“ _Ew_.”

Envy shoves him almost playfully, amused deeply by the disgusted reaction, and bursts out laughing when Henri falls off his chair, alcohol shooting all remains of his sense of balance to hell. Henri stares at the grass uncomprehendingly for a moment, before he too laughs at his own unease. He kicks Envy to shut him up when he feels sobered up enough.

“Say, Vy-“

“ _En_ vy.”

“Whatever,” He arches his eyebrows, scratching his bald head – Envy’s still wondering _why_ would someone shave all their hair off for no apparent reason – as he gives his blond companion a measuring look, “What are you doing once we get back to England?”

Envy shrugs and thinks for a moment. There’s not much to do, is it? Except to go on with this pathetic mockery of life that’s shaping up to be ten times worse than being in Dante’s service. He could spend the rest of his days tormenting Hohenheim, of course, and that has a certain appeal that makes it almost worth it, but on the other hand, he’s _bored_.

He’s always bored.

Maybe, though, if he could find Ed and lure him back to… what exactly are they, anyway? Not a family, certainly, but then, what _else_? Regardless, if Ed was back, then Envy would have someone to fight with. He’s startled to realize he _misses_ having someone to fight him. Henri’s just gotten used to him, much to his dismay, and the threats wash through him as water on wax paper, _immune_. He can hurt Hohenheim, of course, he does that simply by _breathing_ , but he strives for a reaction, for _acknowledgement_. Alphonse…

Alphonse is just a brat without a clue to what’s going on, not really worth the effort.

Envy feels… _harmless_. And he doesn’t like it. He’s changed more in the past half decade than in four hundred years, and it’s disturbing to think about it. There’s no compulsion to kill, maim and destroy anymore, he’s not hanging off the edge of insanity at every moment, but at the same time, he feels _empty_.

Envy is not Envy if he’s not a violent psychopath, and he really hates it when he’s not himself.

Humans change all the time, redefining themselves according to the world around them and adapting. It’s their nature. But Envy’s not supposed to be human anymore and he really doesn’t want to adapt. He wants to feel the thrill again, to be feared and respected and have others _know_. He’s not just another face sitting in a bar, drinking cheap beer and wasting his life away. He wants a _purpose_.

Finding Ed, returning to their world, recover some of his old wrath…

“I don’t know.”

He’s changed, the world has changed… and yet, deep inside, he’s still the same.


End file.
